


You Can Show Me The World (Because You Are My World)

by Hawkstar1999



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Gay, M/M, SO, Soulmates AU, VictUuri, Yuri on Ice - Freeform, also the first chapter isnt related very well, also viktor kind of cheats, at least a little, i wrote it before i figured out the soulmate thing, scars that look like selfharm but arent, soulmate words, they're, which is why yuuri has the scars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-09-15 02:59:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 32,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9215684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkstar1999/pseuds/Hawkstar1999
Summary: I honestly should have given this a different name so its a lot more ansgty than the title suggests.I was planning like a blindness fic but it wasn't working with Yuuri being a figure skater so I change dliterally everything except the titlebut maybe in the epilogue they travel a lot or I'll make it some cheesy line at some point idk





	1. Introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly should have given this a different name so its a lot more ansgty than the title suggests.  
> I was planning like a blindness fic but it wasn't working with Yuuri being a figure skater so I change dliterally everything except the title  
> but maybe in the epilogue they travel a lot or I'll make it some cheesy line at some point idk

It was awful to embarrass yourself so completely in front of everyone- your idols, your friends, your fans, your family. You could be the best figure skater in all of Japan and still feel like all you were was a 'dime-a-dozen' man who had no talent, no future, and no hope. It was horrible to come so far and still be defeated so easily by people who hardly even looked your way. They ground you into the dust with their angry stares, laughing at you behind your back. You knew because they always stopped talking when you walked near them. As you walked away, you could imagine their whispers. 'There's no denying it Yuuri- you aren't one of us.'  
Yuuri pulled back from his notebook, scrubbing the still-wet pen ink so that the words smudged together into a primarily illegible blue mess. Blue pen to match his blue uniform, the uniform he had dishonored his country with by wearing. With a sigh, he pushed away the notebook and flopped back onto his desk. There was supposed to be a party tonight, to celebrate the contestants, but Yuuri didn't want to go. It would be shameful. Even more so than his horrendous program. But when Celestino knocks, Yuuri gets up and opens the door anyway. "No pity party for you Yuuri," the coach tells him. "You should go to the party. Meet some other skaters. Socialize. I don't want you going into a slump or giving up on skating like before. When you didn't make the finals." Yuuri's eyes darkened, a soft frown curling across his face. He didn't want to go, never wanted to skate again. His idol had seen him make a fool of himself. But looking at Celestino's hard expression, he sighed.  
"I guess..." Yuuri mumbled, his face crumbling with defeat. "Just... no socializing."  
"It's in two hours Yuuri. I can pick you up." 

He's far too drunk before even the midway pint of the dance; this wasn't how he was supposed to meet his idol. But the liquid courage of the champagne has turned into a warm sludge dripping through his veins, replacing his blood with this intoxication, which has destroyed all the boundaries he set for himself. It's like he isn't even himself when he gulps down a glass of champagne, strides into the center of the room, and shouts - yes, SHOUTS- 'Yuri Plisetsky, I challenge you to a dance-off. I need to re-earn my claim to my name.' The crowd stirs, a murmur of discomfort and surprise passing from each member to another. In a sober state of mind, Yuuri would have never come here (he didn't tell Celestino, but he had drank chugged a bottle of wine before putting on this awful suit), and he definitely would not have challenged anyone to a dance-off. It was infeasible to this few pieces of his mind that still clung to rational thought, and for a second he almost backed down, but that would be worse, wouldn't it be? Before he could even begin to think, Yuri Plisetsky had stepped forward, same devilish smirk prominent on his face.  
"A dance-off? With you?" Yuri scoffed. "It's so easy to win I needn't even loosen my tie." Yuuri smiled, and as the music volume grew higher -he had no idea who did that- he cocked his head to the side.  
"Easy? I could be so drunk I couldn't walk, and I'd still be better than you Yuri." Yuuri closed his eyes halfway, stepping forward almost tauntingly. "I could beat you with my eyes closed, right now." He blinked slowly, drawn out, making sure to bite lightly on his lower lip. "Of course, that is if you are afraid a drunk man could beat you. The great Yuri Plisetski, Russia's prodigy." He stepped ever closer until his mouth was breathing into Yuri's ear. "You'll never be better than Viktor. Never." Yuuri laughed, lightly smirking when Yuri jerked back.  
"At least I'll never make as much of a fool of myself when I debut in the Seniors. I'll destroy you if you even have the guts to come back." Yuuri stepped back from Yuri, blinking slightly, surprised by just how rude the=Russian boy was. And perhaps it inspired him to dance better because he could swear he'd never danced better than this. Yuuri can't describe what happens when he is dancing with Yuri, its as if he loses himself and instead becomes the music, his limbs and body only made to show the music as an image. It's beautiful, graceful, a complete losing of himself. However, this isn't a ballet, and the breakdancing can't seem to represent his grace as much as a rond de jambe en l’air or battement dégagé. Still, Yuuri can feel the burning sensation of someone's eyes on him. And he can't help but hope that when the song is over, it will be Viktor who is looking at him. 

It takes two to tango. And when Viktor accepts Yuuri's invitation to dance, Yuuri can't help but pull him into a salsa. And alright maybe a salsa dance isn't a tango, (Yuuri can't remember right now. It's hard to think with Viktor breathing on him) but even if it isn't he couldn't care less. It gave him an excuse to hold Viktor in his arms, to fall into the music and feel Viktor fall with him. in love. Their feet move rapidly, Yuuri hardly able to keep up with Viktor's experience- his own inebriation definitely not helping matters. The music is drawing to an end far too fast, their dance so dreamlike even time seemed to be disappearing. And when Viktor bent Yuuri back, fingers digging into his back, it was like a heaven of firey touches. Their mouths were only centimeters apart, practically sharing air as the final notes of the song faded to nothing. Yuuri was practically shaking, exhaustion finally taking its toll on him. And when Viktor lifted him back up with what seemed like ease, he couldn't help but lean into Viktor's touch. But far too soon he was back on his feet, the bright lights of the room burning into his eyes. Yuuri staggered, grabbing onto Viktor's waist to secure himself. Leaning forward, Viktor cups his hand under Yuuri's chin, so close their noses touched. "I had a lovely time," he whispered, voice low and sultry. "If only we could meet again, yes?" And it was most definitely the wrong thing to say, and the wrong time to say it, but Yuuri was Yuuri.  
"My family has a hotel in Japan! You could visit!" Yuuri paused as if thinking, before dropping to his knees. "Be my Coach Viktor!" he shouted, voice slurred from drunkenness. "Be my Coach!" And he couldn't hide his heartbreak when Viktor just smiled and walked away. At least when the tears dripped down his cheeks, there were no harsh sobs to follow it, just the quiet gasps of defeat. 

Pole dancing with Christophe was only to make Viktor jealous. There were still tear tracks on his face, glistening lines that the lights seemed to catch just right in every one of Viktor's photos. (Not that he knew about these photos for ages) He knew he had to make Viktor coach him, and perhaps seductive pole dancing would be the best way to go about it. Besides, he could finally put those lessons with Phichit to good use.  
No one knew exactly where the pole had come from the next morning, but that night, alcohol and high spirits had permeated the air. It was like being on drugs, drinking in the smell of that room. And Yuuri let go, finally, gave up on trying to control himself for the first time in years, and just danced. And there was no denying that Viktor found him beautiful that night.  
The next morning, Yuuri was gone from his hotel room.  
And no one knew that neither remembered anything after the 3rd cup of champagne. (though Viktor really should hold his alcohol better)


	2. Chapter 2

Viktor won again, and no one was surprised. That was the worst part for Viktor, the fact that everyone expected him to win. He had always wanted to surprise people and to inspire people. Now he had failed. He could hardly bring himself to smile at the cameras, and he was off the podium within minutes, making some excuse to Yakov so he could escape.   
"Congratulations! Viktor, a record!" he heard the people shout. And even though he smiled, he knew that at home there would be no one to congratulate him, no one to talk to. And no matter what they said, he no longer craved to win. All he desired was someone to love.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
"I want to show you something," Yuuri said, pulling down his sweatshirt to further hide the words written across his ribcage. "I've been practicing it for a while, and I'd like to share it with you. It's obviously not that good, I mean it's me! But still you might like it?" Yuuri stuttered. It was terrifying, skating was like baring his soul to the people who saw him, and Yuuko could scorn his performance, his continued obsession with Viktor. It was something to scorn, a childish dream of his idol ever appreciating him, of skating on the same ice as Viktor and maybe... maybe someday beating him.   
And when Yuuko smiled and nodded, Yuuri's heart lept (whether it be fear or joy he would never know). "Go fot it Yuuri, you know anything you skate is beautiful to me." Yuuri smiled, tilting his head down to hide his embarrassment from the praise. He didn't like Yuuko, they were practically siblings, but he could never seem to stop himself from blushing like a 12 year old girl.  
It didn't help that he had a tiny crush on her for years, even after she had met her soulmate. Of course, he had met his soulmate and then forgotten. The words written across his side had changed, as if even the stars had realized that Yuuri had lost his first chance. It wasn't impossible for this to happen, but it had scared him. It hurt so much to feel the ink changing, being sucked out of his skin and they dropped back in in a different pattern. It was still Russian, of course, though he couldn't help but have wished he had comforting Kanji written on his wrist. Translating it had been hard, but his Russian was always getting better (because of course he would learn his soulmate's language). However, the words had scared him- "Show me your eros, Yuuri". The meaning of the words made him shiver, curious as to how his first words with his soulmate could be so.. intense. It wasn't like Yuuri to act so strongly with anyone, and never someone who wasn't his soulmate.  
On his other wrist, there was a series of straight line scars, one for each time his soulmate had left him for someone else.  He had so many, at least 30, though it had been ages since he had counted. After the first one, it didn't matter anymore. He knew his love would have a clean wrist, empty of any lines, so how could they keep hurting him. The physically pain of the cuts, as well as the emotional pain of knowing what had happened. Sometimes it made Yuuri just want to get revenge. (Though he never would.)   
Skating to center of the rink, he smiled at Yuuko, trying to push back his thoughts. But it was never good to hold back your emotions, and perhaps a piece about love would help him show all his loss. "Stay Close to Me," more like "Please Stop Giving Up On Me Because Its Not My Fault I Haven't Met You." Yuuri smiled, more of a smirk than anything else, as he took Viktor's starting position. The first notes of the music played, and his thoughts seemed to melt away into the music.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
It was Yakov's text that got Viktor to watch the video, though he had no doubt that he would have seen it at some point. He had expected a subpar recreation, lacking the depth that any skate needed to win an event. Yet, as he watched the man skate on the ice, he couldn't help but see how he seemed to melt into the music. It was still Viktor's routine, but -Yuuri?- made it his own. He watched it three times in a row, pulled out his phone, and booked a ticket to Japan. (Honestly, it was that fast. A spur of the moment decision forced by the glimpse of the man's arms he had seen. No one deserved a soulmate that unfaithful- someone who was probably as bad as him. But his soulmate was long gone, he was 27) The words on his arm were faded, written in the familiar Kanji he used to rub before a match. "Don't take your eyes off me," a simple declaration, one he had heard so many times from people who had seen the words. (One bandage slip while he was out for a jog, one too obsessed fan, and one too many people with Tumblr blogs got that information out really fast.) Maybe one of them was the real one, but he could never know. Security always pulled him away.  
Now though, he couldn't help but want to meet the man who probably had a heart as shattered as his own. It was like his soulmate never existed, to have an arm so bare of scratches. He couldn't help but think they died, no one would stay true to him after the assortment of marks he would have left. No one was that good, that kind. He wanted to learn who Yuuri was, get to know the man, and train him to be better than Viktor. It could be hard, considering his age, but anyone with talent lke Yuuri's could be good, good enough to win gold now that he was 'retired'. Well, not yet, he still hadn't booked that ticket. 


	3. Chapter 2

There were at least 100 different fan projects in his room, he ran a successful Viktor Nikiforov Tumblr, and he had even named his dog Vicchan (the dog that just happened to be identical to Viktor's Maccachin). But never in his life had he seriously considered the fact that these words could have been Viktor's. VIktor had always said he stayed faithful to his soulmate in interviews, and he always bragged about how faithful his soulmate was to him, showing his arm that was clear of any scars. It was rare to not have any scars, though having as many as Yuuri was even less common. His entire arm was laced with them, to the point that he couldn't bring himself to show off his arms in public anymore. It had hurt the most because he got his first scar in 5th grade, long before anyone else in his class. He probably had the most in his town, though he still couldn't bring himself to count all his scars. It would hurt to know just how much his soulmate hated him. It always bothered him, how sometimes he could go months with none, and then get 5 marks in a day, because he would start to believe his soulmate had changed, had decided to wait for him, but they never had. He was probably going to cry if he continued thinking about it, and he still needed to go to Vicchan's grave.   
It was terrifying to be bowled over by a brown poodle when he walked out the door, and as Yuuri sputtered out a "Vicchan?" he had already realized his toy poodle could never knock someone over. No, this larger identical dog looked so much like-

"Maccachin! Come back!" he heard his mother coo, her head poking around the corner. "Oh! Yuuri! You have a visitor. He's foreign," she winked, chuckling as she came over to collect Maccachin. "He's in the baths, said something about his name being, uhm.."

"Viktor," Yuuri stated, jumping to his feet. It only took him half a minute to reach the baths when he sprinted, coming far too close to falling when he rounded the corners of the hallways. He skipped past the indoor baths, knowing that it would be faster to go backwards from the outdoor pools, and burst out of the glass doors. It only took him a second to see Viktor, sitting in the water with his back leaned against the wall, and it took him even less time to hit a puddle and go flying into the water. He landed clumsily, soaking wet with a sore bum and little other bodily harm (luckily enough). Viktor started to laugh and Yuuri couldn't help but join in, though his pride was slightly hurt from the embarrassing entrance. But Viktor definitely didn't give him long enough to recover before he stood up, picked Yuuri up, and said "I'm going to be your coach now Yuuri."   
He might have fallen over again.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
It was funny to see the clumsy young man fall over so much, looking like a fish out of water despite the fact that he was in his own home. Perhaps it was shocking to see Viktor Nikiforov in his home, what could one expect when a hot single man showed up like they were out of an ad. "Hot Russian singles in your area- also they can teach you to figure skate". He tried to maintain a picture of elegance and grace, but Yuuri's constant flailing and splashing had ruined his hair and destroyed his chance of using that speech he had thought up on the flight- what a waste of sleep.   
He leaned down to help Yuuri up, and once the man was firmly on his feet, Viktor relaxed. With all of teh dangerous situations out of the way, he could finally make his announcement. "I'm going to be your coach now Yuuri," he said, grinning. The man fell over again. Viktor did not have time for this, it was getting late and he needed something to eat and perhaps an ice rink to skate in. Not a clumsy person who kept falling over anytime he said anything. He could feel eyes piercing him as he thought, and he realized that both of his arms were bare to the world. One was impossibly clean, the other written with a short line of Japanese text.   
"They're Japanese?" Yuuri asked, blushing after. Soulmates were a private thing, you kept the marks covered at all times. At least, it was that way in Japan.   
VIktor nodded. "I'd assume so from the language," he admitted. "But I've never met them to ask."   
Yuuri nodded. "Mine is in Russian actually," he admitted. "It's actually really nice to read, I guess. I just can't imagine how it will be someone's first words to me." He frowned, eyes darting to his other arm momentarily. "I don't think they're much of a romantic, to be honest."   
"Ooh, romantic?" Viktor asked, lightly teasing Yuuri. But the other seemed to have realized his mistake, for his face had turned red as a firetruck and his lips were shut tightly together.   
"I can get you a room for now, but it might not be very large. You didn't book beforehand." Yuuri stated, his demeanor cold and closed off- there was no way Viktor glean more information form him, even with his smile.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
He was jet lagged as all hell. 6 hours between Russia and Japan! Viktor usually wasn't affected by jetlag, but he was also usually black-out drunk by the end of the night and that helped him catch up on his sleep. Drinking that much was probably kind of unhealthy, and had lead to way too many PR problems, stumbling into hotel rooms with his fair share of girls (and boys) wrapped around his arm, shouting aggressively at fans who tried to talk to him, apparently he even started a fist fight once. (not that he remembered any of those occasions, if he knew what was going on his PR training would have taken over) PR Training was definitely a list of bad memories. HE remembered it first started when Yakov realized he was good enough to actually get somewhere with his skating, he must have been 10 at the time and too young for (or going into?) the Juniors. However, where ever he was in his career didn't matter. The pain of those sessions did. Yelling and yelling and yelling- far too much of it from a far too old lady. There was a reason he always kept enough hair to cover his eyes. (He was more comfortable showing his soulmark to people than showing his eyes to them- at least his soulmark didn't tell a story) He paused his thinking, not wanting to get so lost in his thoughts. Whenever he did that he got sad, wondering how his soulmate could hold out for him when he caused them so much pain- he'd heard rumors of how much the scars hurt.   
He was lying on the floor in the dining room, and he could hear a soft scurry of feet as Yuuri let out a harsh whisper of "He's waking up!". It was funny to see the 'super-fan' talk about him in such a nervous way, they would have to get closer of Viktor was ever going to be a good coach. Their relationship had to be just on the edge of unprofessional, hinting at romance just enough to get press attention without gaining mass following in media. PR lessons from hell or not, he still remembered them. If his course of attack was romantic appeal, his best option would be to get Yuuri to think of him as more than a coach, and that should start now. He blinked open his eyes, trying to flutter his lashes ever so subtly, before stretching out his arms, making sure that the robe fell of his shoulder. Looking up at Yuuri, he bit his lip slightly, "I'm so hungry Yuuri," he said. He wanted to laugh when he saw the other boy's blush, but he forced himself to retain his same cute expression, "What's your favorite food Yuuri?"   
"Uh... well.. its...umm... Katsudon?" Yuuri asked. "Uh... a like.... well.. a pork cutlet bowl!"   
5 minutes later and Viktor was sitting at the table with Yuuri's family, all of them chatting away happily. Only, the conversation stopped when he reached his arm up to scratch his head. It only took him a second to realize his arms were on display, wide-open for anyone to see (and wasn't it a thing that you didn't show the marks in Japan?) He also noticed that everyone was staring at his one bare wrist. He jerked his hand to cover it protectively- an instinct reaction despite the fact it was well-known Viktor had loyal soulmate who definitely didn't deserve to have such an awful person. "No, I haven't found them yet," he answered the unspoken question. "And I know what the Kanji means. I learned when I was little."   
"You are unfortunate. I found my soulmate when I was only 12. We just knew it when I ran into him at a sushi store in town. Of course, we didn't start to date immediately, but I'd say I've just about been with him since then," Yuuri's mother stopped, face blushing red. "Oh I am sorry! I doubt my gloating about my soulmate made you feel any better! Besides, I must get back to the katsudon." She awkwardly shuffled away, head tilted down in embarrassment. Yuuri stood up to follow her, but Viktor reached out and grabbed his hand, making sure to avoid his destroyed arm.   
"You never told me Yuuri? Have you met your soulmate?"   
"Uhm... no," Yuuri whispered. Viktor wanted to press, but was it too soon? Ah well, no time like the present.  
"What does your arm say? I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours!" he offered, pulling Yuuri back towards the table. "See, here, you can read kanji but it says "Don't take your eyes off me," which I always thought was interesting because its an odd thing to say to someone you just met for the first time, wouldn't you say so?" Yuuri nodded, eyes downcast, but he held out his arm to Viktor.  
"It says, uhm, "Show me your eros, Yuuri," and apparently Eros is sexual love? I never really looked into it as much as I should have."   
"I think its beautiful. I've never really seen eros written in Russian before, to be honest," Viktor said, dancing his fingers across the words. "Though there's no denying skating professionally from a young age ruined my chances of really getting a good education. If skating fell through, I probably would have been homeless!" He darted his fingers to Yuuri's other arm, pulling at the sleeve lightly, telling a funny story about his fears when he was 15- Yakov leaving him, never moving to the seniors, and become a professional dog washer. (Okay, so many it wasn't the funniest story as the same thing probably happened to at least a few skaters) It didn't matter though, because he finally had Yuuri's sleeve high enough to glance down- and he blanched. "What?" he whispered, feeling revolted How could anyone do that to their soulmate? Why, there wasn't even any clear skin left, just so many red lines. An endless row of them, going far up into his upper arm, around his elbow, hardly leaving any space unmarred with scar tissue. He leaned closer, ever so slightly, moving his fingers to run across one of the harshest marks, but Yuuri jerked back, pulling his arm protectively to his chest. It didn't help, considering the fact that the arm was just as covered on the other side. The two stared at each other, Viktor's eyes heavy with guilt and fear, Yuuri's eyes showing a dark sadness and a hint of anger.  
"There's a reason I don't show people my arm VIktor. Nobody knows its that bad- not even my parents. Please don't tell them."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if you don't like this chapter- its a little different, and it jumps pretty quickly between a lot of scenes. I don't know if the order of the events is perfectly canon because its been a while since I saw the earlier episodes.  
> Also, I'm definitely going to update again today.

"Can I sleep with you?"  
"Wha.. what? No! Viktor! Get away from my door!" Yuuri raced around his room, trying to pul down his posters as fast as possible. "You can't sleep with me VIktor! We don't know each other!"  
"Well, that's obviously why we should. What kidnd of coach would I be if I didn't know you well?" Part of him wanted to burst into the room, but- it felt almost wrong to invade his room. UNtil he heard the loud thud of someone -something?- falling over. Throwing open the door, he saw Yuuri on the floor, surrounded with posters, a chair on it side behind him.   
"Out Viktor! Out! Out!" Yuuri wailed, flapping his arms around.   
"Just let me help you pick this up..." Viktor trailed off, staring at the poster in his hands. He had long hair in this poster, but it was just before he'd cut it. He'd used the hair as a reminder of his mother when he was away, how she had sat behind him, brushing it out. She'd always told him to never cut his hair, but when she died, it had held too many memories. As if every morning when he woke up, he saw a piece of her in the mirror. And when he had cut it off, he had felt so free after- at least for a week until he realized his only connection to his mother was gone. He never grew it backthough, Yakov had been so happy that it was gone, and he had moved up to seniors soon after. He jsut hadn't had time to grow it out. There were a lot of things he had given up for skating.  
"Let go of those!" Yuuri shouted, grabbing the posters from Viktor's hands. "They don't mean anything, okay? They're just old posters. They don't matter." Letting go of the posters, Viktor stood up and walked away. It shouldn't hurt this much for Yuuri to not care about these old photos, but it did. He stopped at the door.  
"We can't start skating until you lose weight Yuuri. Meet me at 6 tomorrow."  
"In the morning?"   
But Viktor was already gone.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Sweat dripped down his face, his hair plastered to his forehead, his muscles aching in his legs. He'd been running for miles already, and Viktor hadn't even mentioned slowing down or heading back. Yuuri felt like he was on the point of giving up, his body ready to cave in on itself. "Viktor," he huffed, not for the first time that day. "Can we please stop?" he huffed. He could almost feel the giant smile Viktor inevitably had flashed at everyone in front of them. He started to slow, anticipating that Viktor would agree.  
"No."   
"What?"   
"I said, no. Little piggy needs to become a prince real fast if he wants to get into the Grand Prix," Viktor quipped. And even though Yuuri couldn't see his face, he could almost feel Viktor's smirk when the man started to pedal his bike even faster.  
 ______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
"How many more times do I have to run up these stairs?" Yuuri complained, hardly capable of breathing after so many flights. "I've run up these stairs so many times Viktor! I've been working out for like 12 hours."  
"Mhm, I was hoping to push at least 15 hours today," Viktor murmured, tapping his chin. "Perhaps another break? We could go back to the onsen. Relax in the baths, get some dinner. And then go out for an evening run to get those last few hours in!" Viktor grinned, still so energetic despite the long day.   
"uhhh.." Yuuri groaned. He couldn't imagine how he could go for a run again, not after this morning.   
"Not sure if you want to go back? I suppose we could do a few more stair runs if you would like Yuuri. I thought you were tired?" And ten more runs later, Viktor finally relented and let them head home. "Of course, we'll still have to do the evening run! Oh, don't complain so much Yuuri, that was the first day! I went easy on you!  
 ______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
He should have never let Viktor eat dinner with his family again. The first time Viktor was a guest, Hiroko had held back the embarrassing stories and Mari hadn't teased him as much as she usually would. Today though, they had grown comfortable with Viktor's presence, and all of Yuuri's closely guarded secrets were coming out.  
"Oh, he always ate katsudon when he won a competition. It was his favorite," Hiroko said, smiling.   
"So have you had katsudon recently then Yuuri?" Viktor asked.  
"Oh yes! Its one of my favorite dishes," Yuuri gushed. "I've had it a lot more since I came home, because nobody makes it as well as my mom."   
"But you haven't won anything?" Viktor asked, feigning innocence.  
"I... uh... no," Yuuri mumbled.  
"Then no more katsudon until you win, little piggy."  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Viktor hadn't been joking when he said they were going for a run after dinner. However, Viktor hadn't come with him. Instead, he had Facetimed Yuuri from his room, casually critiquing Yuuri's running whilst petting Maccachin. "You should try to land on the balls of your feet Yuuri. It's more jarring to your bones if you land flat on your feet. Besides, it will help with your figuring skating to increase leg muscle by running on the balls of your feet. Not that you'll be on the ice to skate for at least another week." Yuuri panted heavily, too out of breath to respond to Viktor. "You really should try to breath more quietly," Viktor complained. "I feel so gross listening to you huff away like a train. Oh, what a dilemna!" He grinned at Yuuri. "I guess I'll just have to take your breath away." He laughed when Yuuri's face turned red as a tomato, shocked by the intensity of Yuuri's reaction to his words. "That should have been more difficult. Honestly Yuuri, don't you have a soulm-" Viktor bit down on his cheek, wishing he could pull the words back out of the air. He could tell though, that Yuuri knew what he had been about to say. "Yuuri, wait. I... I didn't-"  
"Viktor, just shut up," Yuuri whispered, voice thick with unshed tears. "Please."  
"Yuuri! I swear I didn't mean it!" Viktor protested, "Do you really think I would-"  
"Viktor, I know you didn't mean it. I just-I don't want to talk about it. I'm just- just going to go, okay?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Hashtag ninja!" Viktor shouted, taking selfies in front of Hassetsu Castle. "I can't believe you had a secret ninja hideout and you never told me Yuuri!" Yuuri hummed, still feeling awkward around Viktor after last night. He hadn't come back until 2 in the morning, having lost track of time staring at the ocean. Viktor had been asleep on the floor when he came back, curled around his phone. Yuuri had taken care to step around the Russian, just praying that he wouldn't wake up.   
"Take a selfie with me Yuuri! I want to post this on my Instagram!"  
"Viktor, are you sure thats the best idea? People are looking everywhere to find you. Someone is sure to recognize Hassetsu.  
Viktor laughed. 'I might be forgetful, but its not like I promised to make someone choreography and then forgot about it. Trust me, not even Yuri Plisetsky will chase me to Japan."  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Viktor wondered how he could have been any more wrong when a herd of reporters and one very angry Russian prodigy showed up, all screaming, at his new favorite skating rink. Yuuko and the triplets did a good job at keeping almost everyone off the ice, except one very aggressive boy wearing copious amounts of leopard print. The same boy also seemed to bear a certain hatred for a Japanese man who shared his name. Plisetsky had been screaming and yelling ever since he burst in on Viktor's skating- first that he abandoned his career, then that he abandoned Yuri, but Viktor honestly didn't care. He had wanted to coach Yuuri, he hadn't been inspired to skate. Besides, it wasn't Yuri's job to make Viktor's career choices. He sighed, slicing his golden blades across the ice as he slowed to a stop. He had two short programs already made. "Yuuri! Yuri! Come here to hear your programs!" The two skaters finally stopped bickering to look at him.  
"What am I skating to?" the Russian asked as he skated over, moving as easily on the ice as if he were strolling on land. Yuuri followed behind him, much more subdued, and definitely tired.   
"Just listen," Viktor said, pulling out his phone. "In Regards to Love: Agape. Agape, a transcendent love, an eternal love." He smiled when he saw Yuri's disgusted expression, and Yuuri's awe and interest. But Viktor knew he had to surprise them.   
  _Because my life is temporary_  
         it desires the eternal love  
        Credam, dabo, sperabo, Honorabo, laborabo, gratias agam!

_And at the end, opening doors hidden to us all  
        The grand, grand mercy. _ __  
The piece was gorgeous, telling a tale of true love. Viktor could imagine the romance story of movies, undying love, the love that so many people found through their soulmates. He had found it beautiful, but he had no one to dance it to. "The second piece is this song's sister. In Regards to Love: Eros. Eros is  physical love, often associated with passion." There were no lyrics to the song, the music told enough of a story on its own. The playboy, chasing the beautiful woman, and whens he finally falls in love with him, he leaves. It was a beautiful story, but a tragic one. And quite honestly, he could see no one but Yuuri portraying it correctly. Yuuri didn't outwardly show the personality of eros, but something about his appearance, his age... he would make a far better seducer than the "Russian Fairy".  
  
"Yuri, you're doing Agape. Yuuri, you're doing Eros."  
"Wait-what? Which Yuri is which?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I planned to write longer but the Latin translations took forever. I've only taken like 2 years of latin so I couldn't pick up much from the song and ended up using other people's lyrics to supplement it.   
> Thank you!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 50 Kudos I'm screaming. Thank you so much!   
> I'm sorry if I miss a day or two for updating, or post really short stuff that doesn't enhance the plot at all. It's midterms time at school, and I have a ton of work to do.   
> Thank you all so much for reading this! I hope you like this chapter.

Russian Yuri was dancing to Agape. Japanese Yuuri had no idea how he would be able to represent eros. And his parents had affectionately, and very embarrassingly, dubbed Russian Yuri Yurio. It was all a big mess of things that weren't supposed to happen, and now, Viktor might just abandon him to coach Yurio instead. Honestly, Yuuri had no idea how he was supposed to learn any skating with this much drama- but what else would living legend Viktor Nikiforov bring but drama? He was more than just a living legend though, Viktor was a person, with as many flaws as other. Just sometimes, it was hard to see him as anything but the '5 Time Winner of the Grand Prix Final'. Yuuri was disturbed from his half-sleep when he heard that same 5 Time Winner knocking on his bedroom door.  
"Yuuuri! Yuuuri! We have to find your inspiration!"  
"Ughh.. inspiration? Not the temple?" Yuuri groaned from his bed, covering himself with a mountain of blankets. He'd heard horror stories about the temple from Yurio.   
"No. No. I don't know think the temple will work for you. Don't worry though Yuuri, I'll find somewhere to send you! We still have plenty of time today to practice and find your inspiration."  
"What time is it Viktor?" Yuuri's head throbbed, despite the darkness of his room. He felt hungover, but he definitely hadn't been drinking last night.  
"Eh, its pretty late," Viktor hummed. "Yurio's been up for ages. It's hard to believe you're a professional skater. You're still asleep at 6:30."  
"6:30! Viktor! We were training until 11 last night!" Yuuri complained, clutching his head between his hands. "Are you crazy? How are you alive?" he groaned, dragging himself out of his bed to open the door for Viktor. His room was finally clean of Viktor posters after the awful evening with the poster. It was all in his closet, shoved away where Viktor should never find it- though the nosy man probably would come across it someday.  
"Skaters have to exercise Yuuri! You won't get anywhere in the Grand Prix if you slack off during practice. Remember last season Yuuri? It was so anticlimactic, I bet you forgot. Such a waste of talent. You better start waking up Yuuri" Viktor grinned, leaning in close to Yuuri, "or else I might just resort to drastic methods." Yuuri shivered, Viktor's breath causing goosebumps to run up his arms.    
"I- I'm sure I can get up," he stuttered, blushing red as a tomato. "No need for drastic measures."  
"Well if you can't get up, just rely on me. As your coach its my job to be here for you Yuuri."   
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Eros was supposed to be easier for Yuuri. He positively oozed appeal, so why couldn't he see it in himself, why couldn't he show the sex appeal he obviously had. There had to be something he could do to give Yuuri inspiration, but what? They only had two days until the competition, and while Yurio would definitely found his agape through the waterfall, Yuuri's eros seemed to be hidden much deeper inside. Which was something he should have known, considering that the man had never even kissed someone. Perhaps he could become Yuuri's eros, but even that would take time. More time than they had. But, there was one thing.  
"Katsudon!" Yurio screeched. "Since when you could you not land a quad salchow? Didn't I teach you?" It was a laughable moment, Yuuri spreadeagled on the ice, Yurio a few feet away stomping his skates and waving his arms around like a lunatic. He would stop to take a picture, but the moment seemed too intimate for camera flashes. But katsudon.   
"Yuuri! Yurio! We're going back to Yutopia. We need to find Yuuri his eros." In only took half an hour of complaints and confusion to get everyone to a table at Yutopia, steaming pork cutlet bowls in front of them. It had been a flurry of activity since Viktor walked in the door and demanded 3 pork cutlet bowls, his students finally silent behind him. (students- that wasn't quite right? trainees? skaters? He'd have to ask Yakov how he referred to his skaters.)   
It was the first time Yuuri had sat down since their 6:30 start, and he could only imagine the man's relief at finally being able to get off his feet. When he trained under Yakov, he would often skate to the point that he couldn't stand, which always earned him a scolding, especially as he got older. However, the relief of sitting down- it was like he died and went to heaven but skipped the pain of the dying part. "You should eat you katsudon Yuuri," he said. "Doesn't it just take you over with passion, make you lose any sense of reason you had? Such a good food." He dramatically licked his lips, earning at least a few odd looks from the people around them. "Don't you just love Katsudon, Yuuri?"  
"That's it!" Yuuri shouted. "My eros is the pork cutlet bowl! It makes perfect sense!"   
"Good lord, the little piggy's eros is the freaking pork cutlet bowl. What an idiot," Yurio guffawed. "That's brilliant. Freaking katsudon. I can't believe it." 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kind of skipped forward in time a bit because I didn't want another chapter full of little snippets from their training and stuff, though a lot of important Victuuri moments happened then that I missed. SO if you think their relationship progressed super fast I'm sorry, because it probably did. I'm stll hoping to add in some parts in different times than they were in the anime, just because I think they're super cute but didn't get a chance here.  
> Also I was going to add in Yuuri's skating here too but my wifi cuts out so I literally rn outof time and i wanted to at least post something.   
> Thank you all for reading!

He was a pork cutlet femme fatale and he was going to prove to the world that he was a better skater than Yuri Plisetsky. However, he was never going to show his eros as the playboy. He would show his eros as the beautiful and elusive woman, who had men chasing her who she always cast away. A whirlwind romance ensued with the playboy leading to him heartbroken and incapable of moving on, casting away anyone else who ever tried to court him. It was beautiful and romantic, but tragic. Just- it was hard to imagine the playboy without long silver hair and striking bue eyes. Viktor always told him to think of his soulmate when he danced to eros, but... it was hard to think of someone he had never met. It didn't matter who appeared when he skated on the ice though, so long as the spirit of eros shone through.   
"Yuuri! You should start your warm up," Viktor called, sticking his head inside the locker room. "You don't want to miss any warm up time. If you wanted, you could run through the middle of the program with me, make sure you can do that combination." Yuuri shook his head, biting his cheek. "Remember Yuuri, show me your eros."  
"I will Viktor. I'll be the best pork cutlet bowl you've ever tasted." Viktor smiled, holding out a hand to Yuuri, helping him from the bench.   
"You'll always be my favorite Katsudon. Yuuri, no matter what happens today, I promise- I promise I'll see you again at the Grand Prix Finals. If not this year than the next, you still owe me a gold medal." There hands were still loosely entwined as they walked from the locker room, Viktor's hand fitting perfectly in Yuuri's. It was comfortable to hold onto his hand, like coming home or going to bed at night- simple things you never missed until you couldn't have them anymore. He never missed holding Viktor's hand until he realized he could.   
"Be my coach Viktor?"  
"Of course."  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
It was like he was seeing Yurio skate Agape for the first time, the way he showed eternal love with every movement of his arm and every twist of his jump. The waterfall had done wonders for Yurio but- Viktor almost wanted him to lose. He would never be biased with his judging. However, he couldn't help but want Yuuri to win. He had promised to be his coach only minutes ago. And he would never forget something he had promised to Yuuri. They were close, because he had to be close with Yuuri to properly help him choreograph his routines. They were only professional, only around each other because they had to be. Obviously.  
He hand drifted to his bare arm, running his fingers up the smooth expanse where at least one scar should be. Yuuri was the only person he had ever met who hadn't cheated (though cheating was hardly the right word considering there was no established relationship before you met)- except for those lucky few who met their soulmates before high school. Everyone got tired of waiting, anxious that they would never meet their soulmate- some people didn't even believe that the words were real. No one could blame him for giving up, though whoever Yuuri's soulmate was, they were a proper idiot. If he was Yuuri, he would have given up on his soulmate long ago.  
When the music to Agape drifted to its close, Viktor frowned. Fuck! He had ignored almost all of Yurio's routine to think about soulmates- it was like he was 15 again. And now, he could only guess from the reaction of the crowd as to how perfectly Yurio performed. It was indubitable that the performance was perfect, but- it might not have held onto the spirit of Agape for its entirity. Yurio tended to lose the soul of a piece- he failed to surprise people. Yurio skated off the ice, brushing past him far more angrily than usual.  
"What is it Yurio?" VIktor asked, reaching out his hand to stop him.  
"If you could stop thinking about fucking Katsudon for two seconds, then maybe you could have actually paid attention to me!" Yurio complained,  chest heaving from exertion and emotion. "You might have seen parts, but half the times I saw you you looked brain-dead! I know he's your soulmate, but get it together!"   
"He's not my soulmate Yurio. I don't have his words, and he doesn't have mine. I think you're confused." 


	8. Chapter 8

Yuuri was terrified. Not Grand Prix FInal level of terrified, but something else- terrified of losing Viktor, of failing in front on of his family, of no longer having the buffer of a TV Screen between his own mistakes and the people he loved. Debatably, the TV Screen was no buffer at all, but it still helped- at least until everything got ruined when Vicchan died and he got a new scar for the first time in weeks. He'd eaten his feelings in oily takeout, skipped a practice, and flunked his short skate. It was probably the worst week of his life. Somehow though, it felt like losing here, losing his chance of coming back, it would be even worse than losing the Final. Skating was his life, and without a coach, he could lose it.   
Viktor stood by the barrier, arms draped over the edge. He was frowning, fingers tracing across his bare skin. On Viktor's other arm, black lines of kanji stood out. Yuuri brushed his fingers over his own arm reflexively, a habit he picked up when he was little. It was impossible to feel anything through the material of his costume- Viktor's costume? Would Viktor let him keep it when he lost? Perhaps Celestino would take him back? He doubted it- no one would want a 24 year old man who couldn't perform properly.   
Of course Yurio was skating beautifully, perfectly, and there was so much emotion to his skating. HE flowed across the ice like he was made to skate on it. Yuuri could never hope to duplicate the same level of perfection that Yurio had, but, maybe, he didn't need perfection to win. Love wasn't perfect, love was messy and painful but it always worked out. Maybe... He could redefine eros. And as Agape came to an end, for once in his life he didn't feel nervous. He was a pork cutlet femme fatale, and he was going to skate. If Viktor would stop arguing with Yurio. God, he'd just finished getting himself psyched up what was this timing.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
"He's not my soulmate Yurio. I don't have his words, and he doesn't have mine. I think you're confused."  
"I might be 15, but I'm not blind Viktor," Yurio huffed. Shaking his head, Yurio walked away, leaving Viktor behind, alone and very very confused. Yuuri wasn't his soulmate, obviously, so why did Yurio think he was? He knew the teenager was more perceptive than people gave him credit for, but- it was impossible. The sentences were your first words to each other. "Show me your eros, Yuuri," was the not the first thing he had said to the skater. He was pretty sure the first thing he had said was: "A commemorative photo?" There was no way that was lost in translation. Yurio was probably just confused.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
"Show me your eros Yuuri."  
"I'll be the most perfect pork cutlet bowl you've ever imagined." He needed to be the picture of eros, he needed to show eros in every movement of his arm, every flick of his wrist, every step of his footwork, every rotation of his spins. And he knew he could do that- for the ice, for his family, and he would put every single bit of himself into the music- until there was no longer Yuuri skating Eros but Yuuri being Eros. And as the music started, he could feel eros in his bones. He was the seductress, the pork cutlet bowl, and he had come to conquer others with love.   
And even when he messed up, he just saw it as a point where he stumbled in love, where the man rejected his advances for a moment, only for him to stand up and win again. He was the most beautiful woman in the world, and no mistake could deter him for long. His breath came fast as the music raced through him, as he let everything fade away but the ice. The music was ending, and he was done with his conquests, tossing them away as he moved on again. He had climbed his mountain, and descended to find a new town- he was an elusive women that never stayed around for long. And as Yuuri's arms shook from holding out his final pose, he let out a breath of relief. Even if he hadn't eat Yurio, at least he hadn't made a fool of himself.   
The cheers of the crowd proved that Yuuri Katsuki could skate to win.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
He stood alone on the podium, the second place spot empty of Yurio- Yurio who despite his standoffish attitude had started to become something like a friend to Yuuri. It was hard to admit that Yuuri missed him, but he still did.  Because all Yurio's attitude was was a facade, something he created to protect himself. Viktor could easily have been the same way. And when Viktor put the gold medal around his neck, he smiled. Not for the cameras, but for everyone he loved. He was going to the Grand Prix, and his theme would be love. To honor the love his family and friends had given him, the love he had somehow failed to realize before.   
It was a much shorter ceremony with only one halfway famous person around to take photos, Viktor declining to do any interviews. And after, when they left the rink together, he could finally ask. "Why did Yurio leave so soon? He didn't know the results."  
"Because when you skated, you became Eros. You didn't just show eros or tell a story like Yurio did, it was as if you and the music were one being, dancing to a rhythm together. Yurio could see that, and he knew he could never win- though he did say to tell you he would beat you at the GPF."  
Yuuri smiled, shocked to hear the praise from Vikor. Normally he would only be told how to improve how he skated, but for now, the two were happy to walk without any thoughts of figure skating- for Viktor it was the first time in years that skating wasn't at the back of his mind. He didn't even notice that it was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

"My theme for the grand prix is love. I had so many people supporting me in my life, my friends, coaches, and family, and I will always appreciate them for the love they gave me, even when I didn't realize it was there. But I have found new people in my life in the past few months, people who have showed me the love others have for me, who have inspired me to succeed. I feel very strongly for VIktor, and even though I can't identify what this emotion is, I would like to call it love. Whether it be philia or storge, eros or agape- I still feel inspired and loved by Viktor. And this year, I'm going to win the Grand Prix final to show just how much love I have!" Cameras were flashing, people were screaming, and Yuuri- Yuuri was in shock. He was being pushed off the stage, half blind from the repeated flash of the cameras. Vikor was wiating for him at the other side, pulling him into a hug, patting his back.  
"What did you say, Yuuri? My Japanese wasn't good enough to keep up."  
"Just that my theme was love, and a lot of people inspired me," Yuuri said.  
"Nothing else. Nothing that would get the crowd so fired up?" It felt like being scolded, as if VIktor was reprimanding hi for lying, or not telling the whole truth.   
"I said I would win. I guess they just aren't used to declarations like that or something," Yuuri mumbled, though he knew it was his declaration of love for Viktor that had caused the stir. Viktor would find out soon enough, when someone mentioned it to him or he looked up a translation- but telling someone you loved them in person was far more daunting than admitting it to half the world. "Do you know what my qualifying competitons are yet?"  
"Are you changing the subject Katsudon?" Viktor teased. "I'll just have to Google it, won't I? Oh, I would be so hurt if I found out you declared your love for me and then tried to hide it. Oh, so dreadfully wounded." He pressed his hand to his forehead, miming a collapse to the ground. "Oh, how could Yuuri do this to me! I could just die from the pain! I'm a failure of a coach, a failure!"   
"Viktor, I didn't mean it! Viktor! I'm sorry! Viktor! Viktor!" Yuuri yelled, flapping his arms like a chicken. "I swear I didn't mean it Viktor! ごめんなさい! ごめんなさい!" He was too hysterical to realize that Viktor's cries of pain had turned into laughs, the man unable to continue his act when Yuuri started squawking. "Viktor i promise to never not tell you about declaring my love for you on live television ever again!" And if Viktor thought he couldn't laugh any harder before, he wa snow proved wrong- his laughs making it impossible to breath, making tears come to his eyes. It took him minutes to calm down, sprawled on the floor with Yuuri continuing to fret over him- convinced of Viktor's impending death now that the man looked like he was dying. "Viktor! I'm sorry! I promise to never do it again!" Yuuri kept repeating, kneeling on the floor and bowing in front of him. It was hard to calm down, but VIktor somehow managed- still breathing heavily but capable of forming sentences, he tried to placate Yuuri.   
"If you ever somehow manage to repeat this Yuuri, I will be too in awe to die."   
It didn't really help.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
"The Cup of China and the Rostelecom Cup." Viktor told Yuuri, looking at the listings. "But you have to do some preliminary competitions to qualify because you did so poorly last year. I think the first one is coming up in a month." He smiled calmly at Yuuri, stretched out in the warm waters of the onsen. "There should be plenty of time to fix some of the issues you have with the jumps, especially since Yurio taught you how to land some."  
"Wait wait wait. Did you say a month?"   
"I can book the flight in time, don't worry Yuuri!" Oh that rhymes. "Like I said, we have more than enough time with a month. We would have had more than enough time with two weeks." He reached out, taking Yuuri's hands in his own. "We would be good if it were tomorrow, because I know you can perform your short skate perfectly. And maybe the free skate would suffer but you could do it Yuuri. You could win, or come second or whatever you need to qualify. Not because of me, or Celestion, or your family, but because of you Yuuri. You can win. And you need to figure out what music you're going to do for your free skate."   
"I have to what?"  
"The music for your free skate Yuuri, what do you want to skate to?"  
"But Viktor! I never picked my own music before!"   
Apparently being a five-time world champion gave you connections, because Viktor somehow managed to be on the phone with Celestino only minutes later, his hair still dripping wet from the water of the hot springs. He was talking with Celestino, who seemed happy to tell Viktor everything he knew about Yuuri. He also seemed more than willing to share the story of the time Yuuri had recommended a song. Viktor seemed more than interested in reading it, and one day later Yuuri had a flash drive for Viktor. The whole process seemed to have taken far too long- the drawn out nervousness of Yuuri and the drawn out excitement of Viktor leaving them both short tempered and highly emotional. But Viktor had never expected to feel this hurt just from a dull and uneventful piece of music. It hurt to know that the beautiful man with the black hair and the big blue glasses had never recognized his own talent.   
"Yuuri, what do you think of yourself? As a skater?"  
"I'm just another dime a dozen figure skater Viktor. Everyday I'm surprised that people support me, I'm not like you or Yurio. I wasn't made to skate."  
"Yuuri... Is this really what you think?" The Japanese man nodded, refusing to meet Viktor's eyes. "Yuuri, I think that you're the exact opposite of that. There's nothing about you that comes even close to 'dime-a-dozen.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, thiis is what their soulmate sentences look like:
> 
> Покажите мне ваши эрос ゆうり - Show me your eros Yuuri (Yuuri's sentence)
> 
> 私の目を離してはいけない - Don't take your eyes off me (Viktor's sentence)


	10. Chapter 10

"So, do you think you can connect me with the girl who originally made the music for me Phichit? I know things have been awkward since I chose not to use it, but I want to have her redo it- and it would be so hard to find someone new.... You can? That's brilliant Phichit! I'll email her right away with my ideas for the music. Thank you! Good luck!" Yuuri was ecstatic when he finally ended the call with Phichit- it had been too long since he had last called his best friend, and it had hurt to have to rush their catching up so he could ask about the music for his free skate. Viktor might not have liked the first piece, but a new song- a song with emotion and drive, a song that inspired you- it would be the kind of music Viktor would want to choreograph a routine to.  
It was painful to wait for her to respond, and whens he agreed Yuuri had jumped up so quickly that he knocked over his desk chair, his shout of jubilation rousing half the house. (He was a perpetual night owl, and it had been 2 in the morning. No one had been happy to wake up, except Viktor. Viktor who had hugged him and told him he was so excited to hear the music when it was done.) He'd practiced every day, more devoted to skating than he had ever been in his life. He had so much to prove to the world now that Viktor Nikiforov had chosen to coach him.   
The closer it got to the day she had promised to give him the music, the harder it was for Yuuri to sleep, to skate, to do anything other than frantically refresh his inbox while trying to remind himself to breathe. VIktor let him indulge- occasionally ending practice early and even checking Yuuri's phone for him when the skater became too anxious. He'd always laugh at Yuuri- "It's three days until the music is due to be done Yuuri. I doubt she'll have it early, especially since you gave her such little time to begin with." And it would help for an hour, until Yuuri was practically begging Viktor to let him check his emails to see if it arrived.   
It was worth the few days of horrible practices when the music finally came, Yuuri's exclamation of 'Yes!' again waking up the house at the ungodly hour of the 2 in the morning. Hiroko had claimed he was scaring away the guests at the inn, and Mari had bitterly complained that Yuuri had woken her up two times in the span of one week. When Mari had finished complaining, she had enveloped Yuuri in a hug, suggesting celebratory alcohol. Viktor had wholeheartedly agreed- and Yuuri had only just managed to stop the two. (though he had been forced to promise to go out with them later)   
Viktor had stayed with him that night. He had clung to Yuuri like a koala, and despite the fact that his words slurred with exhaustion and his eyes drooped closed no matter the conversation, Viktor's grip on Yuuri never eased enough for the man to slip out of his arms. And when Viktor finally fell asleep, Yuuri was too comfortable to be bothered to move him. Until Viktor started to snore, soft little noises that wheezed out of his mouth when he exhaled, and left Yuuri's ear feeling uncomfortably wet. But when he started to scoot away, Viktor had grunted, and tightened his grip on Yuuri. He murmured words into Yuuri's hair. Russian words he couldn't understand- 'Yuuri не идти'. Yuuri berated himself for not learning Russian before, he butchered the pronunciation of one of the only Russian phrases he knew "Я понима," 'I understand.' Whatever Viktor had said, he hoped it was a good response.

He woke up the next morning to Viktor running his fingers through Yuuri's hair, humming along to the song playing in his earbuds. He stopped humming the moment Yuuri moved, the last notes of the song lost to another world. "Good morning Yuuri," Viktor said, voice quiet as he continued to run his fingers through Yuuri's hair.   
"Mhm, good morning," Yuuri yawned, eyes still blinking open, adjusting to the light of the sun. He flet suspended in time, as if he could spend forever with Viktor running his fingers through his hair, humming in his ear. He could live forever in this realm that bordered on the edges of pillow talk. But Viktor was Viktor, and he had to shatter Yuuri's illusion.   
"We should go to the rink, start choreographing. We only have a little while to perfect your free skate for The Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship!" 


	11. Chapter 11

Yuuri's leg buckled beneath him, his body toppling backwards as he hit the ice. He sighed, giving himself a second to stay on the ice, breath racing and lungs heaving. His fingers were stiff with cold, gloves damp from a mixture of sweat and melted ice. With practiced ease, he pushed himself to his feet, wobbling for a second on his skates. He twisted to look at Viktor, expecting some sign of disappointment or at least emotion, but his coach just watched him, eyes intent and arms crossed on the edge of the rink. "You're distracted Yuuri. You went into the jump with enough speed, had good timing- you shouldn't have fallen. Just relax, try to forget what's bothering you. Okay?" Viktor sounded almost conversational, and Yuuri hummed, turning back to his skating. It was easier said than done- to stop thinking, but he had to try. He'd been having trouble all week with his quad salchow, and he'd fallen more times than he could count during their morning practice alone. Skating was both a mental and physical game, and he had the physical aspect down. But he hadn't been able to be in the right mental mindset for ages. He was afraid- afraid he wouldn't have his free skate mastered in time, afraid that the part he dedicated to Viktor was too much, and afraid that in a weeks time when he had to perform, he would mess up and ruin everything. Yuuri launched into motion, the sounds of his blades scraping the ice ringing in his ears.  _You're going to waste the only good thing you've ever been given._ But he fell out of the spin and hit the ice with a thud. He winced as he tried to stand up, dropping back down to his hands and knees. Gingerly, he stood up, making sure to ease pressure onto his feet. He could stand, he was good.  
"Yuuri! That jump was better-" Yuuri backed up, ready to reattempt the quad "- and do not try that jump again! Don't think I didn't see that fall!" Yuuri sighed. "Yuuri get over here! Yuuri!" Viktor waited for him, seemingly more flustered than before now. "Take off your skates and sit on a bench. You don't want to get hurt this close to an event! Gosh, people would think I was an awful coach! What would I do?" Yuuri knew that Viktor was watching him like a hawk, looking for any sign of pain or injury. But his ankle hurt and it was hard to walk in skates, hard to stop himself from limping every few steps. He could almost feel his coach's anger as Viktor's eyes followed him across the room."Yuuri! You can't get hurt like this! Do you need me to reteach you the jump?"   
"No! No no no," Yuuri spluttered. "I know the jump! I just wasn't paying enough attention!"  
"But as your coach its my job to make sure you are healthy **and** happy before every competition. And that includes checking for injury and making sure my skaters are always. always. always. paying attention." Viktor punctuated each always with a step closer to Yuuri, seemingly menacing in his approach. "Now, I'll just take off your skates and make sure that your ankle is good."   
"I can take off my own skates!" Yuuri complained, but he knew it was a lost cause. It was probably some form of punishment (ike when Viktor had woken him up by breathing in his ear after he slept through his alarm the day before) and all you had to do was look at his face for proof- a devilish smile and crinkles around his eyes showed that Viktor was two seconds from laughing and that he very much intended to actually take off Yuuri's skates. Yuuri sat down with a sigh, swinging his legs up onto the bench so Viktor could take his skates off. (Not that he wnated to, but Viktor 'that wasn't a question, that was a command' had terrified him to the point of agreeing.) Viktor's fingers grazed his skin as he pulled away the layers of clothing that covered Yuuri's laces. His fingers tapped against the bottom of Yuuri's leg, where his skates ended. And he undid the laces with incredible capability, years of practice of taking on and off skates. It felt oddly intimate-  _because it reminded him of Yuuko taking off his skates when little, of Hiroko hugging him while he cried about some new sore or other. It was anyone who got to take off his shoes._  
"It's far too easy for you to get lost in your own thoughts Yuuri, Viktor said, dangling Yuuri's skates less than an inch from Yuuri's nose, the pair still slowly moving from side to side as if he had swing them like a pendulum. "So rude to leave me waiting after I took off your skates, and to ignore me! I was hurt." Yuuri felt like he was going to die. "Now, as for your ankle, I prescribe one walk with me and to not do quads until tomorrow."  
"Until tomorrow! But my skating! My quad salchow!"  
"But isn't today so pretty for a walk outside? Just look at the view!"   
"Viktor!"


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long to update- I had a ton going on at school and also a retreat and I apologize for that.

The Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship. Aka, the first Yuuri would perform in a real championship while Viktor was coaching him and Viktor's entire reputation was based on how well he performed today because no one thought Viktor could be a coach. Or something like that.   
There was a buzz of noise around him, people's shouts echoing around the rink. They were everywhere, a mass of limbs and heads, a wave of people. They were like a mob, high on emotion and searching for anything to go after- he could feel the crowds judgement, like a black fog that obscured his vision, that made his hands tremble as he walked.  And now he had to walk up and choose his number, choose when he would perform. He wasn't ready, would never be ready, couldn't go first. But as he stepped up, hands still shaking uncontrollably, he could already tell- like deja vu- that he would be first. It was yet another time in his life that he wished his intuition would be wrong. Because the dark clouds of the crowd only seemed to descend further when it was announced that he was first. The boy behind him ran forward, taking his number with a grin. "Last! Whoo! But I wish I was brave enough to go first like you Yuuri."  
"Uh. Huh? Wha?"  
"I heard you're doing a quad! I want to do a quad someday too! I can't believe I get to skate with you Yuuri!" Yuuri stared at the other skater blankly, only remembering that this was the boy who beat him at nationals last year. Wasn't he some kind of self declared super fan?  
"Umm... I guess?" Yuuri stuttered, not quite sure if the boy had even asked him a question or just wanted to keep talking at him. He was trying to deal with breathing exercises, to push off the impending panic attack he almost always had at his competitions.   
"I'm Kenjiro Minami! I'm your biggest fan! I even had some of my costumes designed to replicate yours! You were such an inspiration to my skating." Yuuri's breathing came faster, harder- he needed to get out but Minami was still talking to him, and he wanted to collapse but he couldn't. He had to skate eros when all he felt was stifled and ill.  
"Please. Not my old costumes. I regret it so much," Yuuri sighed, shrinking away from Minami. "If I could go back, I would probably have never done it. Those costumes, that music- it wasn't me. Please don't bring back all those memories." It had been a bad time for his skating, but he could relive bad skating moments. It was his scars- when foundation could no longer be trusted to cover his arms, when all his costumes were altered to fit loosely on his skin in case there were any new marks- it was as if he had a new one everyday. Phichit had held him in his arms while he cried to sleep at night, sometimes waking up with more scars on his arm in the morning than he had the night before. And Phichit had offered so much help, but he couldn't take it. Doctors would look at him like a statistic, like he was no longer a human but instead some part of a soulmate science experiment. People would look at him like a broken shell of a person- and he was, but that didn't mean he wanted people to treat him that way.  
"But Yuuri! You inspired me to skate!" Minami shouted, "How could you tell me that your skating was a disgrace when it was what made me want to be like you. You still inspire me everyday Yuuri. But I guess our idols aren't always who we think they are. I'm going to do my best to beat you Yuuri. Just you wait."   
How can you hope to inspire yourself when you can't even inspire a boy who was inspired by you to begin with? How could you be such a failure? How could you be so rude to your fans? Why are you such an idiot? You deserve to not have a soulmate. Because even though your have words on one arm, those scars should be sign enough that they'll never ever love you.   
"Yuuri? Yuuri? Are you okay? You have to warm up."   
"I'm fine Viktor," Yuuri assured him, plastering a smile on his face. "I'm ready to skate first, don't worry about me being anxious or anything."   
"I've made enough fake smiles in my life to recognize one on you Yuuri." He took Yuuri's hands, rubbing his thumb over Yuuri's knuckles. "Please tell me what's wrong. I don't know what you want me to do for you, but please, just tell me."   
"I have to go warm up." As Yuuri walked to the rink, he refused to look back at Viktor. He loved his coach, but he didn't want Viktor now. Viktor would only make things worse.   
In the warm-ups, he fell. He fell on a quad salchow, touched the ice on a triple flip, and even had a wobbly landing on a double lutz. It was shameful- to have his competitors see just how bad he really was. And the more he messed up, the worse that he got. By the end of his few minutes, he felt as if he could trip just skating- something he hadn't done in years. And he was up first.   
Skating over to Viktor was perhaps the most embarrassing moment of his life- he had to acknowledge the fact that he had failed, that he would never be able to show how good Viktor was as a coach because he couldn't perform. That-  
"Turn around Yuuri."  
"Wha? Why?" Viktor smiled, patted the edge of the rink twice.  
"Turn around Yuuri." And Yuuri did, put his back to Viktor, facing the crowds. Arms squeezed him from behind, pushing the air out of his lungs as they grabbed his chest. He knew it was Viktor- only Viktor would act so touchy in public. Viktor leaned in close behind Yuuri, lips brushing against his ear as he whispered: "Show me your eros Yuuri. Skate for me."   
"Don't take your eyes off me." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe spoilers?  
> But this isn't really them getting together because they both think its your soulmates first words. But Viktor's going to google it anyway, and like a major introduction to the details of this soulmate AU will happen then. Which is like kind of late in the story to explain everything? so I'm sorry about that.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some parts that deviate from canon.  
> Like, the crowd wasn't super into Yuuri's skating while he skated in canon.  
> And he talked to Minami after in canon.  
> But... Fanfic?

"Oh shoot. Oh shoot. Oh dear. Oh dear. What did I just say? What did Yuuri just say?"   
"I'm going to prove my eros to the whole world but for now I'll just prove it to Viktor."  
"Is it wrong to say your soulmarks to someone else like that? Does it destroy their meaning? Oh dear."          
"I'm Yuuri Katsuki and I can prove to the world that I am worthy of having Viktor Nikiforov as my coach."  
"Shit." 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
If he did his free skate right, it had one of the highest technical difficulties in skating history. If he did wrong, it was still incredibly difficult for the man who didn't even make international competition the year before. But this was Viktor's forte, surprising people. It was probably what made Viktor take a break from skating- fear of the fact that he could no longer surprise people. And through Yuuri, he had unlocked a whole new world of surprises. It scared Yuuri though- what if Viktor ran out of ways to surprise him, to surprise others through him. What if Viktor became disinterested?   
But right now, Viktor was interested in Yuuri. And he wasn't going to give up his only chance, a once in a lifetime opportunity, to skate Eros for Viktor Nikiforov. He was going to be the surpriser, and not the surprised. Because Viktor didn't see him as just another skater- Viktor saw him as a friend, as a student, as a confident. Because when he told Viktor he had anxiety, that he had depression- Viktor hadn't changed his actions toward him. It had happened soon after Yuri left, a decision heavily pushed by Minako. And Viktor had smiled at him, had took his face in his hands and told him: "It doesn't matter Yuuri. Well it does but- It doesn't define who you are. Never start to view yourself as a statistic."   
The first notes of the music filled his ears, as he cocked his hip to the side, looked directly at Viktor, and licked his lips. Eros was sexual love, and if Viktor wanted to say his soulmark words to him, then he would skate back. Soulmarks promised Agape, and if Viktor wanted to ruin Agape with Eros, then he would ruin Viktor. Eye contact was hard to maintain while skating, while spinning in circles and doing footwork, so sultry gazes when given the opportunity was close enough.   
Until he sultry gazed into a wall and started bleeding from his nose. He hated bleeding on the ice- it was embarrassing that he had been so out of control that he crashed into the wall. But it wouldn't mess up his timing or emotion, he was better than he was before. He had Viktor as a coach now, and he could overcome a mistake.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Yuuri was focussed on him. Far too focussed on him if he hit the wall. He could feel the story the motion, of Eros, burning him. He could only imagine how other people felt- this incredible sex appeal. It was emotional enough to let him win, though he hardly needed emotion. The technical difficulty was enough to win a national competition, even with flaws He didn't want to doubt the other competitors, but- None of them would be good as Yuuri. Why, minime in Latin meant no, as in 'Minami has no chance of beating Yuuri'. The crowd roared when Yuuri landed correctly- his Quad Toe-Triple Toe combination!- and Viktor raised his Macachin tissue box up in celebration. That was his student! Winning! It was a new feeling, fulfillment. Because he could get all the satisfaction in the world through material objects and people, but nothing brought fulfillment to his life until now, until Yuuri. It was like all the stories he had heard of meeting your soulmate, like some empty space in you was filled.   
And coaching Yuuri, it had brought back his inspiration, had brought back what made him happy. Yuuri had made him able to surprise people again. The music was ending, the last measures playing out, and he couldn't take his eyes away from Yuuri. Because as Yuuri spun to a stop, scarlet blood hit the ice. Blood.   
Viktor didn't touch blood.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
His breath was racing as he held his final pose, limbs shaking from exertion. It was nothing like his free skate, but Yuuri had never worked this hard in his life. When he skated against Yurio, he hadn't been so stressed. It was only Hasetsu and not half the world watching him then. But when he looked toward the exit, he saw Viktor waiting. And he would do it all again for Viktor, every single moment of pain, even the last GPF, just to have the opportunity to have Viktor coach him again.   
It had been Viktor who had inspired his love. had inspired his free skate, had inspired his Eros. He would be back at Hasetsu moping and eating Katsudon if the Russian man hadn't shown up at his home. (though he would prefer a different entrance if he had a redo)   
Whoever his soulmate was, they hated him, and Viktor was right there, he didn't to be afraid to have Viktor be his Eros. His soulmate had obviously found his Eros with a thousand other people already. At least they didn't have scars. Scars came from making out- the only thing he remembered from Soulmate Ed in middle school- and maybe his soulmate deserved a scar, maybe they would remember he existed if they got a scar. Maybe they would regret it. But that wasn't him, he didn't hurt people like that. And as he hurriedly skated towards Viktor, he knew it would never happen. No matter how many plans he made, he was always too much of a coward to follow through.   
"Viktor!"  
"Yuuri!" He wiped the blood from his nose to the side before launching himself from the ice. he didn't want to think right now, he wanted to celebrate the fact that he was done. He walked to the Kiss and Cry holding Viktor's hand, a tissue pressed against his nose to staunch the flow of blood. They leaned against each other on the bench, waiting for Yuuri's score with baited breath.   
94.36

It was his personal best, but that didn't stop Viktor. As they were walking to watch the rest of the performances, the amount of complaints was just piled on- he was too focussed on the jumps, he lost his focus on the emotional aspects, how he should lower the difficulty of his free skate. But he didn't care.   
"Viktor, I'm going back to the hotel room after our interview. I can't be bothered to deal with 'this' right now." He expected Viktor to stop him, to force him to stay for longer, to go somewhere with Viktor, but instead the man nodded.   
"I'll catch up with you later Yuuri. Make sure to get some rest."  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________

The moment Yuuri was gone Viktor pulled out his phone. 'Is it wrong to say your soulmate words to someone who isn't your soulmate?' His phone offered no support, it said it was impossible. That your mouth would go dry, that you would choke on the words. One person said that a brick had fallen on their head, and they had been in the middle of a meadow. Maybe what they had said had been different? It must have been, different word order or something. But he knew what Yuuri had said was exactly what was tattooed on his skin, now knew what the word sounded like when Yuuri said them. Beautiful.  
And if you couldn't say it to someone who wasn't your soulmate. 'Are the words on your wrist always the first thing you say to your soulmate?' The Google answers were most commonly yes, but one stood out to him, a person with a blog post about how their words had been an iconic moment, right before their first kiss, because they had forgotten the first time they met. 'Heavily intoxicated' the lady said. And Viktor sighed because, how many people could he have missed. Half the people he met he met when he was highly intoxicated.  
But Yuuri was a skater, and there was one banquet he couldn't remember. He'd heard stories, had laughed and made up some of his own from the pictures on his phone, but the events of the night, they were gone. All he had were a few photos of Yuuri Katsuki and an uncomfortable tingling in the back of his mind, like he was forgetting something important.   
But it was so unlikely, who was to believe a dumb old lady who made a blog. He should probably trust the hundreds of doctors, the people who had never met their soulmate because they never said their words. He was probably just another person who had a soulmate who died.  
He turned off his phone, sticking it in his pocket. The locker room was empty, deceptively quiet considering the storm of people outside, all waiting to question him on Yuuri's early departure. Today, Viktor wasn't going to smile and he wasn't going to act. Today, he slipped out the back door to get back home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also sorry for the late update.  
> I had a migraine Thursday and into Friday, and an essay due Saturday and it all just piled up because I got legit nothing done Thursday.  
> So I'm sorry but I'm trying to priortize my physical health because I basically already gave myself insomnia.  
> But thank you all for reading and I'm sorry if the writing is awful, I wrote a lot of it on some pretty high doses of Tylenol so... not my best. (Clarification: Tylenol knocks me out so I was basically half asleep when I was writing)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's kind of unrelated and out of plot context, but the free skate was on the same day I believe with the nationals.  
> So Viktor gets Yuuri drunk for plot (sort of)   
> Does this story even have a plot

Yuuri was cute when he slept. His mouth was open and he drooled on the pillow, he snored quietly, and his hair was all ruffled, parts sticking straight up into the air. Yuuri's hands were still loosely holding his phone, dropped onto the pillow next to him like he fell asleep doing something. And Viktor knew it was wrong, but when he moved over and took Yuuri's phone, it was still unlocked. And when he tapped the screen, safari was still open, clearly displaying:  
'What to do if you like someone who isn't your soulmate?'  
Viktor dropped the phone like it was deadly. Did Yuuri like him? He didn't deserve Yuuri. Yuuri didn't deserve someone like him. He didn't do commitment, not with any of the people before, and not with anyone after, at least until he met his soulmate. And Yuuri, Yuuri was the most committed person he knew. Yuuri was the kind of person who would die waiting for his soulmate if they never showed up. Yuuri was the kind of person who had an arm covered in scars and still didn't lash out. He didn't have a single scar and he still didn't wait. Sure, he liked Yuuri, but. He didn't expect it to be reciprocated, if it even was. It was the first result that scared him though: 'It's sinful, unless there are special circumstances, like your soulmate died or has clearly expressed disinterest in you.' And sure Yuuri's soulmate had expressed disinterest in him, but- Viktor's soulmate was clearly alive and clearly waiting for him.   
Sinful...  
He'd learned about sin when he was little, an angry old man had taught about it during a lecture in school. He hardly remembered when the man said, but he did remember the man had a white pillow that he stuck black dots to- black dots representing sin corrupting your soul. He didn't even know if he followed a religion, what he believed in. But if he had an afterlife, his soul was probably black. He was already a professional liar (or actor, depending on how he wanted to look at it.) Tonight, he didn't want to sit alone in his room, contemplating his soul or whatever. Tonight, he was going to get Yuuri drunk. To get to know him better as a coach, and not as an excuse to run away from his emotions. Of course.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Yuuri hated it. Viktor was shoving drinks in his face, and it was definitely some form of peer pressure when he finally convinced him to drink a beer. The Russian man was red-faced, already halfway to drunk and they'd only been there for half an hour. It had been enough of an ordeal to get him to come, Viktor physically dragging him from his room after he pretended to be getting dressed for two hours. (The fact that the man believed him for almost two hours showed a lot about Viktor's own dressing habits.) Now though, there were tipsy people all around him, music blasting in his ears, bright lights flashing and one Viktor constantly trying to get him to take shots with him. He hadn't been to an event even remotely similar to this since he left Detroit and Phichit had dragged him out.  (They'd had one day in crying with takeout, and one day out getting blackout drunk and pole dancing. It was the way Phichit always did roommate therapy.)   
"Yuuuri. Yuuuuri. Drink with me! It'll be funnn!" Viktor seemed to drop out of the sky, somehow having gotten even more alcohol. He didn;t know how the man did it- weren't bartenders supposed to stop you at some point? Perhaps it was the perks of having a seemingly limitless credit card and a worldwide fanbase. "If you won't drink with me, at least dance with me!' Viktor complained, pushing the drinks into Yuuri's hands as he tried to take off his shirt.   
"Gosh Viktor no! Oh god! Keep your shirt on!" Yuuri flailed, looking for somewhere to put the drinks so he could stick Viktor's shirt back on.  
"But it's hooot Yuuri," the man complained, pouting at Yuuri. "Come dance with me pleasee."   
"One second, Viktor, take this." Yuuri shoved the drinks in Viktor's hands, taking his shirt back in exchange. "I'll dance with you if you put this back on, okay?" It was scary how quickly Viktor grabbed the shirt, pulling it over his head. And if he had to dance, and Viktor would make him dance, he might as well drink something. There was nothing as awkward as being the one sober person dancing. He winced when he chugged down the pink drink, some kind of high alcohol content monstrosity. Viktor had had like 4. Viktor was clearly waiting for him, shirt on and eyes surprisingly sharp as he watched him over the edge of his own glass. Yuuri put his own down on the table, letting himself be stolen away by Viktor, the crowd of people parting before them until they were in the center, crowded in by sweaty bodies and shining lights. And Viktor kept disappearing, bring back more and more drinks, that he kept drinking, until his vision was blurry at the edges and the music seemed distant.   
There were people all around him, and he danced with them. He didn;t know much about who each person was, what he was drinking, it sloshed onto his hands and his shirt, and the moment it was gone there was something new in his hand. He always made sure it was Viktor, looking for gray hair and blue eyes, perhaps his only remaining inhibition being this fear of strangers' drinks. But then some man was dancing with him, whispering something in his ear, something he didn't hear, leaning closer and closer to him.   
And then the man was ripped away. Gray hair and blue eyes punching the man, a crunch of a breaking bone, and Yuuri was being dragged away. Viktor, holding his wrist like a vise. Viktor, with gray hair mussed and covering one of his eyes. Viktor, whose shirt had disappeared yet again. Viktor, who he kind of wanted to kiss right now.  
But then he noticed the pain streaking through his arm.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
He'd been kissing some girl on the dance floor, pulled aside form his quest to find Yuuri by a girl with long brown hair and brilliant eyeliner. (He could recognize good eyeliner. Georgi had made him try it once and he had been effectively transformed into a raccoon.) But she'd grabbed him by the arm, had leaned in close to him, and she was pretty and he was drunk- and it was never an excuse but he was good at finding excuses. And then they were kissing, lightly swaying in time to the music. Until he saw a man talking to Yuuri, leaning in as if he was going to kiss him, and his vision went red. Because it was as if he was sober again, feeling disgust at this girl's tongue in his mouth, disgust at himself for being a bad soulmate, and rage at this man who was going to kiss Yuuri. Because that man wasn't his soulmate, and that man had no right. The only person who could Yuuri was him. Or something. He'd shoved the girl away, ignoring her squawk of outrage, launching across the room to get to Yuuri. The man had toppled beneath him, obviously drunk and out of balance. He was no person to fight, but for Yuuri. For Yuuri, he punched the man, one punch into his nose and the second into his jaw. He heard a crunch, one glance down proving it was his own hand that was hurt. He grabbed Yuuris arm, with his other hand, pulling him from the room as fast as he could. Because it takes two to kiss and Yuuri was obviously one of the two and they had to go back home so he could yell at him. He rose his hand for a taxi, pulling Yuuri with him, and prayed that he could get back safely.   
He woke up the next day wrapped around Yuuri like an octopus, in a sea of sheets and missing a shirt. His hand hurt, like one of his fingers were broken. He hardly remembered last night, everything a blur after he got the taxi- perhaps he yelled at Yuuri? He knew he had wanted to. Next to him, Yuuri stirred, arms momentarily tightening around him before letting go. The man next to him shifted, letting out a moan of pain. "Head hurts," Yuuri complained.  
And even though his head hurt too, it was Viktor who stood up to get Tylenol for the two.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
It took Yuuri ages to be ready to talk, but Viktor wasn't unaware of the dried tear tracks on his face, or how he kept pulling down his sleeves. By midmorning, though, Viktor was sick of Yuuri's wide berth around him, refusing to even touch him, not since when Viktor gave him the Tylenol.  
"Yuuri," he reached out, took him by the shoulder. "Tell me whats wrong."  
"No."  
"Yuuri, please. If not as your coach, than as your friend. If not as your friend, then as your family."  
"You punched that man."  
"He was going to kiss you Yuuri!"  
"Well maybe I wanted to be kissed!"  
"What about your soulmate Yuuri!"  
"They don't even care Viktor!" Yuuri shoved his arm in Viktor's face, sleeve pulled down to show a new cut, still hardly healed. "They never cared."   
"When?"  
"What does it matter? They did it! Can't someone have enough self-control to wait 24 years for a soulmate? It's not that hard Viktor! Maybe you should try waiting for yours. Can you imagine how much they hurt? Because I hurt every day, I can't wear short sleeved shirts, I can't let people touch my lower arms. You complain about having bare arms in interviews. Maybe you should actually face a real scar. Sometimes, you remind me of a monster. I feel so horrible for your soulmate."   
Viktor didn't cry, but at times like this, he wanted to. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the aragraph setup when I first updated. I wrote this in word and when I copy and pasted it in, all of the 'enters' disappeared and it was really late and I didn't really look.  
> I'm honestly so sorry but I've updated it so that thep[aragraphs are like, at least okay?

Yuuri hadn't spoken to him outside of formalities since they came home. He practiced, more than ever before, but his skating was emotionless and his eyes. Well, they didn't sparkle. Debatably, there were worse things in life than apathy, but with the Cup of CHina coming closer everyday. He needed to find a way to bring Yuuri's eros back. Not going out with him though. He'd fractured one of the bones in his hand, and he still had to keep it wrapped, and he wasn't supposed to do quads- something about using his hand to catch himself if he fell and hurting his hand more. It wasn't like he listened to the doctor though, which would be the death of him someday.   
But how could you get anywhere in life taking care of your own health? He'd had friends who wanted to get into university, who had worked their whole lives, who had gone to school when they were sick and moved away from home when they were hardly 10 just to get a better education. People who worked just as hard as he worked at academics, or other sports. It was only those people who seemed to get Wikipedia pages. Those same people also were the ones who would give up their friends for success, and perhaps that was why he was left alone with an angry 15-year-old and a dog. Yuuri had this huge support group around him, people who were so loyal, an entire town dedicated to him, and Viktor, he had loved to be swept up in it. Now though, Yuuri had exiled him from his family, locked him out of his room, closed his arms to Viktor's hugs, closed his ears to Viktor's words, closed his thoughts to Viktor's mind. He could feel the man's resentfulness when he looked at him, burning on his back. They'd only talked once after, on the plane home, after Yuuri won.  
"Yuuri, congratulations! Do you want a celebratory kiss?" Viktor cringed, didn;t know why that was the first thing he had asked Yuuri. It reminded him too much of when he had asked him for a commemorative photo the first time they met, he hadn't acknowledged Yuuri- his accomplishments before, and his feelings now.   
"Viktor." Yuuri had warned him, tried to make him shut up. He had been an idiot.  
"What? Do you want two kisses? Because you are gold now Katsudon."   
"Viktor. No. Just... just stop. Do you really think asking me for kisses is the best thing right now? The last thing I want is kisses."   
"But, why ever not Yuuri? You wanted to kiss the man before, yes?"  
"No, Viktor! I was drunk! And you punched him! It's not like you can claim me- you hardly even know me!" And no matter how many times Viktor had been an idiot, he knew this was a lie. He knew how Yuuri snored when he slept, how Yuuri hated to be alone at night, how Yuuri couldn't stay awake through a movie, how Yuuri hated to eat fish, how Yuuri had learned Russian when he was younger to know his soulmate, how Yuuri had stopped when he got his tenth scar, how Yuuri couldn't even say 'hello' in Russian without frowning. He knew more about Yuuri than Yuuri knew about himself, stuff that Yuuri would never know because he wasn't even conscious to it. And then Viktor had decided that no one else could ever hurt his Yuuri again. He would find his soulmate and he would hurt them for what they had done.   
Because it was them who had made Yuuri so afraid.   
And it was them who had kept Yuuri away from him for so long now, who made him pine for Yuuri's touch. Pine was a strong word, but it was what he felt, wasn't it? Intense desire, to the point that he would do anything for it. Anything except hurt Yuuri. It was probably ranging on manic now, manic and disturbing. You don't do this over people who aren't your soulmate, you rarely even act like this with your soulmate! He had problems, but-   
"Hmm. Viktor? Viktor! You're late!" He blinked open his eyes, greeted by Yuuri who only just poked his head through the door, probably to check on him and see why he wasn't eating breakfast. "I went down to the rink but you weren't there so I came back. I can't believe you slept through your alarm!" And he was wide awake, had been awake for ages, but he hadn't realized how long it had been since he'd lived through his worst nightmare last night. He'd woken up at 3AM, breathing heavily, heart burning. Because in his dream, it wasn't that he never met his soulmate, or that his soulmate died. It was that his soulmate got tired of waiting, and he met them years later when they were married to someone else. It was betrayal and heartbreak and so much pain- a recurring dream from when he had turned 20, had realized that almost everyone around him was well and truly in love and he was the only one who still didn't know his soulmate. He found safety in his bare arms during the day, but logic didn't stop nightmares.   
"Well, did you at least get some practice in before you came back? I was testing to see if you had initiative," he drawled, words dripping with annoyance. "Next time, don't wake me up, okay?" And Yuuri's face, the way he looked like he had just learned that he could never do what he loved, it was painful. But he had to, didn't he? Yuuri wanted their relationship just to be like one between a coach and his student. Well, he had never explicitly said that, but it must have been implied somewhere. Yuuri was a person of implications, and he was the same- he was a professional liar and Yuuri was a hider. He lied about the truth, and Yuuri obscured it.   
Together, you just got night and fog. He wasn't the sun and Yuuri the moon, no, they were just two different figures in the same night.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
He had yelled at Viktor, but he hadn’t wanted this. He hadn’t told Viktor to ignore him completely, all he had said was that he wanted to be allowed to live his own life, that he wanted Viktor to recognize just how lucky he was. Because Viktor was lucky. Because his arm never had a scar. Because nobody punched people who wanted to dance with Viktor. It had been Viktor who had forced him to go in the first place! It didn’t make sense for Viktor to cut him out like this now. They had to prepare for the Cup of China, but Viktor would hardly look at him, and he wouldn’t acknowledge his successes at all. When he finally did a quad flip in practice, Viktor hadn’t even noticed. He had been looking at his phone. Perhaps Viktor wanted them to be more professional, now that they were being viewed at an international level. But that didn’t mean ignoring him! He had to pay Viktor to be his coach at some point, probably an exuberant amount, and the least he could expect would be his coach showing up to practice on time. He had known something was wrong when Viktor hadn’t been waiting for him outside, holding a to-go cup of coffee and scrolling on his phone. But he had tried to put it off, Viktor had been late once before when Yurio was still training with them. It was probably just the same thing again- he had probably gone out the night after dinner, he had locked himself in his room and played his music too loud in his earphones. He had wanted to go to the ocean, but it was colder now, and he couldn’t lock Viktor off the beach- though this man who had replaced the affectionate Viktor he had known wouldn’t try to follow him.

He had skated for almost an hour, practicing the same quad flip- and suffering quite a few falls in process- before Yuuko had come in to inquire about Viktor. She had offered to drive back to the inn, to see if Viktor was there, or if he had been hurt at some point on his walk to the rink. He had sprinted from the ice when she suggested Viktor could have been hurt, disregarding appropriate skate removal techniques. (He ruined the blades by sprinting to the locker room without putting on the skate covers.) He had been half blind, skating without glasses on, and the laces of his skates seemed to blend together into a white blur, as he tore at them angrily- it only hindered him in untying them, but it felt faster- and then he shoved on his sneakers, running for the door. “I’ll find him!” he called to Yuuko, already anticipating the worst (Viktor lying on the sidewalk covered in his own blood, eyes closed, already too far gone for him to save) But there were no bodies anywhere, and that only made his heart race faster. What if a fan had kidnapped Viktor? He couldn’t lose Viktor, losing a coach this late in the season would be devastating, and losing his friend (sort of) would be even worse. He had burst into the inn, rushed past his parents without even pausing to even say good morning to them. It was on his way past Viktor’s room that he heard a rustling of sheets- though it seemed improbable that the sound would be louder than the pounding of his blood in his ears.

Yuuri crumpled to the floor, tears finally springing up in his eyes. Because Viktor wasn’t hurt or sick or kidnapped, Viktor hadn’t even remembered. In no matter how awful those situations had been, the fact that Viktor might have forgotten had never even crossed his mind. Viktor was forgetful about almost everything, but he had never forgotten Yuuri. He felt ashamed to be crying about someone who so obviously didn’t care about him, and perhaps Yakov had been right. Maybe Viktor was too self absorbed to be a coach. When Viktor had told him his story of leaving the first time, Yuuri had laughed. Viktor had been the best coach he had ever had then. Now, Viktor Nikiforov was a nightmare. He had probably lost his inspiration. He had probably decided that Yuuri was hopeless and boring, had decided to return to Russia as soon as the season was over because he felt tied down and dull. It made sense- Yuuri was hardly capable of even a simple routine of Viktor’s and he had horrible stage fright. It would make sense for Viktor to give up on him.

But not matter how many times his coaches would give up on him, he could never give up on himself. Maybe he would retire at the end of this year, and maybe he wouldn’t. But no matter what happened, he would end things with Viktor before Viktor ended things with him. And for once in his life, he felt strong enough to actually go through with his promises. His tears had long since dried, leaving tracks down his face- but that wasn’t a problem, Viktor had seen him cry before. He was an open book to Viktor, and that was him being naïve, but… what was wrong with being naïve?

He would live a happily ever after with his soulmate, no matter what his scars told him. He would have a coach who actually cared about him, even if he couldn’t receive that from Viktor. And he would win GPF gold, if not this year than the next. He was Yuuri Katsuki, and he was sick of losing.

 

“Hmm. Viktor. Viktor! You’re late! Wake up!” He was afraid to go in Viktor’s room, their recent coldness to each other leaving him stuck just inside the door frame, whisper shouting at the man. But he wasn’t stirring, still inert and motionless. “Viktor! "I went down to the rink but you weren't there so I came back. I can't believe you slept through your alarm!” But still the man wasn’t responding, and he was sick of it. “Viktor! Wake! Up!” And finally the Russian man moved, shifted his blankets away from his head, to blink up at Yuuri with innocent eyes.

“Well, did you at least get in some practice?” Yuuri spluttered, this is not the subject. He had been nervous, he had been worried Viktor was hurt and now, Viktor was just being rude. He had no right! “I was testing to see if you had the initiative to practice on your own.” It was a lie. He sounded sarcastic, and bored. “Next time, don’t wake me up.”

“I was worried Viktor! Do you have no emotion? I was worried you were hurt! You can’t just do this! You were over an hour late! And now you have the audacity to yell at me? I don’t know what you think of me Viktor, but I’m not dumb. If you won’t be my friend anymore, than at least be my coach. That’s what you came here to do.”

"Then let me. Come here Yuuri." Viktor opened his arms to Yuuri. And Yuuri relented, walking over and lying next to Viktor, though he left as much space between the two of them as possible. "Yuuri. Yuuri. Look at me." And when Yuuri turned Viktor was right there, breath vaguely minty. "Yuuri. I'm sorry. I was a bad coach. And if you wanted me to be your friend, then I was a bad friend too." And Yuuri smiled, leaning forward and touching his nose to Viktor's.

"It's okay. I was mean to you."

"You just showed me the truth." 

"Showed? All I did was yell at you a lot."

"Sometimes you need to be yelled at Yuuri. No one yelled at me for so long that I thought I had problems, when all I really am is lucky. I'm lucky because I have all thes eblessings in life- and you to show them to me. Because I was blind to the difference between achievement and fulfillment. Because I had all the achievement in the world, but it took you to show me how to achieve fulfillment, to show the truth and to be happy with it."

"What do you mean? Achievement? Fulfillment?"

"I've done everything I can to be seen as great, but it took you to show me that greatness, that achievement, isn't all I want. I want happiness too. I want to be able to go back to my apartment at home and not feel alone. I want to go home and feel fulfilled." 

"I'll never let you feel alone again Viktor."   
______________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

_He was so in love._

_He wanted to kiss him now._

_But he was waiting._


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to google how high a plane flies, because it was incredibly imperative to this segment that does literally nothing to push forward the plot but dont worry i should update again today and actually remember that this story has a plot line.  
> they act kinda fluffy and get called soulmates at least twice while also being completely inconsiderate to every single other person on an airplane, but nobody yells at them because? idk its part of the AU now. ill tag it.  
> but if y'all want 2k of kinda fluffy really trashy writing than have i got something for you.
> 
> also sorry for my lack of capital letters i just write everything like im texting it (not in the story in this comment tbh no grammar in a story annoys me so much but i know my grammar isnt the best and i have the weirdest mix of british and american spellings so sorry

He was ecstatic to see Phichit again. He had missed their comradery since he moved out of their shared room in Detroit, had missed their nights together- whether they be bad nights when Phichit cried and drank away his sorrows about a date who left him, or they were good nights, when they ordered too much takeout and watched movies until 2 in the morning, stomachs sore from laughing so much. It was hard not to miss someone who you who had lived with for years, but he could function after they left. They ordered takeout separately while face timing and Yuuri always made sure to watch Phichit when he was in a bad mood, to help the man ride out his funk with cheesy puns and (On Phichit's side) too much to drink. He never even tried to drink- there were far too many risks involved when he let himself go. (According to Viktor, he was unrestrained Eros on legs. But you could never trust Viktor, a lesson he had learned many times while they had been working together.)

Viktor kept making this face at Yuuri while they waited in line to get on the plane, some mix of disgruntlement and disgust, like he had never waited for a plane before or something. Viktor probably traveled all the time though, it didn't make any sense, but- "Do you usually fly first class Victor?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your face. It's like you've never waited in a line before. And I know when you fly first class you get to stay in like a fancy room. It would explain, like, you," he gestured, hand waving at Viktor's entirety.  

"I guess so." 

"Guess so what?" Yuuri teased, leaning into Viktor's side. 

"I guess I normally fly first class." 

"Even in the juniors?" he questioned. 

"I think I flew business then." 

"...wow," Yuuri looked at Viktor with a forlorn expression. He sighed, shaking his head at Viktor. "It must be sad to be as old as you... and have never lived! To never fly third class, why, that's practically a crime Viktor! You've never had old men with bladder issues move you ever 5 minutes, you've never had screaming babies, or people who fall asleep and take up your space. I honestly feel so sorry for you, missing all those great experiences." The entire time, he could hardly hold back his laughs, sentences punctuated oddly by his gasping for air. 

"Great?" Viktor asked, confused, and at least mildly humoured, given the way he seemed ready to laugh.

Yuuri managed to quell his laugh for a second, placing a hand on his heart and looking up at Viktor with all seriousness. "Viktor. Those people are what planes are about. I can't believe you lived your whole life without going on a proper plane trip. At least you'll finally get your chance to experience it today."  

"I'll show you a proper plane trip, katsudon. Win me gold and I'll fly you first class." 

"I don't want to fly first class Viktor, as long as I can fly with you."

And Yuuri suddenly noticed their proximity, how they had squeezed closer and closer together to the point they had become like one, how when he turned towards Viktor, he could see the individual shades of blue in his eyes. It was as if time seemed to slow down, the constant noise of the outside world fading to near nothing, the stars stopping their constant journeys to watch the two of them just smile at each other. Viktor moved first, leaning forward, he ran his hand down Yuuri's cheek, the pads of his fingers grazing over Yuuri's skin. Yuuri reached toward Viktor in return, brushing away the man's gray hair so he could fully see his eyes. They paused for a second, just breathing in each other's air, close enough that their skin seemed to tingle. "I'll always fly with you Yuuri," Viktor whispered, his words strongly accented. Yuuri smiled, a smile so soft and joyful Viktor could feel himself floating in it. But the stars could not stop forever, and the world jolted to a start yet again. A harsh mechanical voice filled the room: "Boarding Group 4, please proceed to the gate." 

Yuuri lurched backwards, ripping himself from Viktor's grasp. "Uh, that's.. un.. us?" he stuttered, cheeks burning red. "We should, like... maybe go on the plane?" 

"We should, like, probably," Viktor quipped, and Yuuri swore he could see a hint of sadness in the man's eyes before it disappeared, Viktor's happiness mask falling into place. And oh. oh. No wonder Viktor was sad- he had forgotten his sunglasses at the inn, and his 'privacy' was gone. Because the eyes were the window to the soul, and no matter how practiced Viktor was at hiding his soul, there was always someone better at finding it than you could ever be at hiding it. So he smiled up  at Viktor and shyly laced his fingers with the man's. 

"We should though. Go. Like actually."

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

They hardly made it onto the plane because Viktor laughed so much. He had practically dropped to the floor, holding his sides and cackling, eyes tearing up. And Yuuri definitely thought he was overreacting but he tried to help anyway (but it only made things worse because Yuuri made Viktor laugh harder) And when the man called through the intercom that the gate was closing in one minute and anyone outside (ahem two men) better hurry up unless they wanted to miss the plane. Viktor had looked directly at him, winked, and said: "I wouldn't mind missing a plane if I got to spend my time with you." Yuuri had turned bright red and stormed for the gate, giggling to himself when Viktor ran after him. "We could practice quad flips! You always wanted to do a quad flip!" The man had chuckled at Yuuri, shaking his head.

"I remember when I was like you," he had said, still smiling. "I still am of course, but, its been a long time since then."

"Since when?"

"Well, the first few years after I met my soulmate. How long have you been together?" Yuuri balked, stepping away. "Oh, its not my place to ask. I am deeply sorry."

"Oh no, its just, we aren't soulmates. He's my figure skating coach."

"And nothing more, of course?" the man joked. "I may be old, but I'm not blind." He scanned Yuuri's ticket through his machine, ushering him forward. He held out his hand for Viktor's ticket, making a disapproving tsk noise when he saw the crumpled state of Viktor's. "Enjoy your flight."

"You too," Yuuri blurted. His face burnt red as he pulled away Viktor with him. The moment they were out of earshot of the man, Yuuri let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "We can never come back here." Viktor laughed, and Yuuri threw his hands in the air. "Not again Viktor!" Yuuri complained, his arms ended up full of all the carry-on bags as he supported half the weight of the Russian man (who was definitely pretending to be laughing so much so he wouldn't have to walk) They rushed past the flight staff, Yuuri with his head down and cheeks pink, Viktor still laughing, arms wrapped around Yuuri like a koala. They looked drunk, and the number of annoyed looks they were receiving was mortifying. 

"Come on Viktor; we need to hurry to our seats. We've already delayed the flight a little."

"Hm, G2 and G1." Viktor offered, pointing towards the back of the plane.

"So you aren't incapacitated?" Yuuri snapped, though he lacked any aggression. Viktor grinned, his laughter long since quelled.

"Oh no. I'm still incapacitated. Haha." Viktor's voice was monotone, his words slurring together in a slight drawl. "Laughing so much." Yuuri just sighed, wiggling so Viktor would fall off his shoulders.

"You're taking all the luggage on the way back." 

The two took far too long walking to their seats, Yuuri trying to get Viktor to focus and Viktor stepping into Yuuri's way, causing the man to crash into his side with a snort- a mixture of air and laughter exploding from his chest. It took a flight attendant pushing them along, gently reprimanding them and forcing them to their seats. She's looked at them with the same expression as the man before, this weird nostalgia and admiration. But before Yuuri could even begin to understand what her emotions meant, she was gone- off to give people orange juice and water. 

"She was nice."

"We can never fly on this airline ever again. You don't even know Viktor. We have a return flight!" 

"Their job is to deal with people like us; nobody will even remember who you are after the skate. Well, they'll remember Katsuki Yuuri, but they won't remember the man who was late to his flight." Viktor looked down at him, smile turning slightly sad. "People seem to forget the humanity when they are faced with the idol Yuuri."

"But they'll remember me."

"Of course they'll remember you Yuuri," Viktor assured him, raising Yuuri's hand to his mouth and kissing his knuckles. "But they'll only remember the good parts of you, how beautiful and kind you were, how graceful you were, how polite and helpful you were. Meeting Katsuki Yuuri isn't a forgettable experience." 

"Neither is meeting Viktor Nikiforov," Yuuri pointed out, nudging Viktor with his elbow. 

"Of course not." 

"You're just like Yurio says- narcissistic," Yuuri joked, face contorted with near laughter, eyes crinkled up at the corners. "I don't know how I could ever learn from a coach who only thought about himself!"

"My heart!" Viktor placed his hands on his chest, tilting his head back and sinking down as far as he could in the cramped space. "If we flew first class, I could lament properly," Viktor quipped, winking at Yuuri, before instantly switching back into the character of the heartbroken man. "I can't believe you could do this to me Yuuri."

"Just try to sleep Viktor. Your heart will be better after the flight."

"But these seats are so small!"

"Or maybe your butt is too big for them." 

"You're so cruel Yuuri," Viktor complained, pouting. "How could you tell me to buy tickets for seats that are too small for my butt?" 

"Revenge," Yuuri hummed, leaning his head against his coach's shoulder. "Just try to sleep." He blinked slowly, having difficulty focussing on his coach now that the rush of energy from their escapades at the airport had faded. 

"The things I do for you Yuuri," Viktor acquiesced, shaking his head. He smiled at the drowsy skater on top of him. Viktor wanted to touch him, wanted to hug him and hold him close for forever the flight. And the time seemed to melt away as Yuuri turned into liquid heat, curled up into his side. Yuuri was enticing when he was asleep, mouth half open and snoring lightly. And Viktor was so tempted to run his hands through Yuuri's hair, to hold him in his arms and pepper his head with light kisses- but he couldn't. Yuuri was his student, and he was waiting for his soulmate.

No matter what he wanted, he could hold himself back. For Yuuri. He could prove to himself that he wasn't as self-centered as everyone else said he was, as he had acted before he had met the constantly polite Japanese figure skater. You could do anything for someone you love- not that he loved Yuuri romantically, but he loved him as a friend and as a student. And platonic love was far more valuable than it was often showed to be. But if he had the chance, he would take something more than platonic without even thinking about it.

Yuuri stirred next to him, blinking open his eyes slowly, and Viktor lurched back from him. But the sleepy man made a noise of complaint and flopped backward until he was touching Viktor again. "Coldd..."

And Viktor scooted closer to him so Yuuri wouldn't hurt his back, accepting his fate as the worst coach in the history of figure skating. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Viktor. Viktor. You're squashing me!" 

"Uhh?" He blinked his eyes open to see Yuuri practically underneath him, his entire body flopped across the armrest between their seats. The man was practically pinned into place, and Viktor felt his heartbeat speed up. He should never have fallen asleep! What if he had pushed Yuuri into an awkward position and he had a cramp before his short skate? 

"We have to get off Viktor. The plane's landed." The grey-haired man tilted his head up to look out the window, needing visual confirmation of the fact that he was safely not over 30000 feet in the air. He wasn't afraid of flights, but- who wasn't afraid of falling? 

"Okay. I'm going," he said, limbs still rusty after his extended nap. "I'm just a little drowsy still is all." He lifted his head up to look at Yuuri and grinned one of his iconic Viktor smiles. He felt defenseless- it wasn't often someone woke up before him- but he didn't feel afraid to look up at Yuuri and not try to hide anything. But it was only for a second, before-

"Last call! Everyone off the plane!" He looked around and realized that he and Yuuri were some of the only people left. Getting off the plane was turning out to be almost the exact same ordeal as getting on it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hit 20k words on this chapter  
> why not a chapter with a plot?  
> can i claim character development and relationship development. soul searching idk


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was able to revise certain parts of it, but others I never got the chance to revise. (Normally, I don't revise anything besides huge spelling/grammar errors, so I was glad to be able to go over the writing on this chapter, at least partially)  
> But this was like over 5k words, the longest chapter so far.  
> And I apologize for saying I would update on Sunday again. I was planning on writing a much shorter version of this, but it was, like, a pretty important part.   
> The next chapter will probably be longish too, though 5k is still pretty short for a chapter.  
> Thank you all for reading!

STILL EDITING

"Phichit!" Yuuri dropped his bags to run and embrace the Thai skater. "It's so good to see you. How long has it been?"

"Too long Yuuri. But even a day apart is too long," Phichit joked, hugging Yuuri in return. "Oh wow! You've lost weight Yuuri! Wanting to be in top shape for a certain someone?" he asked, winking at Yuuri. "Perhaps a certain... Russian figure skater with 5 consecutive Grand Prix Final wins?" 

"Agh Phichit! You already asked when he first showed up at the onsen, before it was even public that he was my coach, he's not my soulmate."

"True, but there are exceptions. I mean, you probably spoke at that dumb banquet when you were drunk. Ask him about it? If you both were drunk, you wouldn't remember the first thing he said to you. And besides, since when have soulmates stopped Yuuri Katsuki from pursuing his idol?" 

"I was way too scared to talk to him. I would have never-"

"But you know how you get when you're drunk Yuuri," Phichit butted in. "No shame in asking him though. It could be fun to learn about that night. Then I could finally learn all of the... Drama!" Yuuri sighed, silently judging his friend for his use of jazz hands. Jazz hands of all things!

"There wasn't any drama Phichit. But I can ask, if just to appease your weird social media obsession." 

"You're the best Yuuri!" Phichit shrieked, pulling his friend into an even tighter hug than before. "I knew I had the best roommate ever, and it wasn't just because you were willing to go to pole dancing lessons with me!" 

"Gosh Phichit! Can you shout any louder?" Yuuri complained, cheeks burning red.

"Probably... I knew I had the best roommate ever and it wasn't just because you were willing to go to pole dancing lessons with me!" Phichit couldn't have been louder with a megaphone, he was on blue whale level with his shouts. 

"That was a rhetorical question!" There was no denying that half the hotel had heard Phichit, and Yuuri was mortified, face bright red as he refused to look up. "Maybe I won't ask Viktor anymore." 

"You wouldn't!" 

"I would." 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
"You took pole dancing lessons?" Viktor asked, sitting next to Yuuri on his bed, scrolling through his instagram while Yuuri made sarcastic comments about certain photos- particularly photos posted by @JJ-Leroy. 

"Bugger off," the Japanese man complained, shoving Viktor aside.

"Consider me shook." Yuuri groaned, flopping on his back while he glared at Viktor. "Aww Yuuri. Are you ashamed? My cute little Katsudon," Viktor cooed, shifting to kneel over Yuuri. "I promise to never steal Phichit's vocabulary again." He paused, tapping his fingers over Yuuri's chest. "But since when have you been stealing Britain's?" 

"Bugger off. But do you have photos from the Grand Prix Final? The one where I was there, before I failed at Nationals?"

"Uhm, probably?" Viktor asked, "But why? I want to tease you about using 'bugger off'". Yuuri glared at him, and Viktor sighed, taking out his phone. "Give me a second. I can ask Chris, of course, and then Yurio, but I don't think I took any myself. I drank myself stupid that night, though I wish I hadn't. I hate having empty spots in my memory like that, what if I missed something important?" He scrolled through the gallery on his phone, though it was hard to find any photos amongst the sea of selfies- the majority of which included gold medals.  

"How did you take that one?" Yuuri asked, pointing at a particularly odd shot where Viktor held his medals in boths hands, smiling at the camera. 

"Oh. Probably with like, a camera countdown. Or I might have just asked someone to take it for me. I do have a social media team- at least one of them would have been willing." He deleted the photo, before scrolling further down, searching for anything banquet related. "Hmm, maybe these blurry ones? If I was drunk, I wouldn't have been the best photographer." He clicked on one, and was immediately assaulted with a drunk Katsuki Yuuri slow-dancing with him, Viktor tipped down into a dip. 

"What! How did you take you...?" Yuuri stuttered, his face flushing red, staring at his (shirtless!) self dancing with Viktor. 

"Oh, it was probably Chris or Yurio," Viktor said, seeming almost unphased by the discovery. "Oh boy, look at this one of you! You look so drunk and cute." Viktor shoved his phone back in his face, showing a disheveled Yuuri with a red face, a bottle of champagne clutched in his hands. "You must have been so drunk. It sucks I don't remember it." 

"I don't want to," Yuuri complained, watching as Viktor scrolled through the next few photos. One of them was clearly from the beginning of the night, a much clearer photo of a fully clothed Yuuri staggering towards Yurio. 

"I would want to remember. Your pole dancing was probably brilliant, and you look so Eros. If you could be drunk forever, without affecting your mobility of course, you would have mastered your skate the first time. Emotion is important, one of the most important things for a figure skater."

"But at least you don't remember my pole-dancing."

"You mean I won't get a live repeat performance! I was so excited," Viktor complained, dropping down to the bed, laying his hand over his eyes. "My heart Yuuri!"  

And though he was joking for Yuuri, his heart was in pain. Not because of heartbreak, but from confusion. Yuuri could be his soulmate, and all signs pointed towards that fact. The man clearly liked him, the way he leaned into Viktor's side, and blushed when Viktor flirted with him. He wasn't that different from anyone else who liked Viktor, just... less direct with his interest, his passions. He was easily the opposite of Viktor, shy and not outgoing, self conscious instead of full of himself, polite and humble instead of being so ostentatious. What was that English phrase- Opposites attract?  
He wanted to know, he wanted to kiss Yuuri, he wanted to fall in love and have kids who became figure skaters too. And it was weird to want children with a man- impossible actually- but he did. He wanted to spend every minute with Yuuri next to him. But the man wanted his soulmate, and Viktor couldn't be that for him, couldn't prove it without bringing so much pain to Yuuri and himself. It was one thing to have a situation where you didn't even know, but it was even worse with Yuuri. Yuuri who was too good and kind for an idiot soulmate who hurt him so much.

"Would you hate your soulmate?" Viktor blurted out. His brain was still going crazy, so many questions left unanswered. There was so much to know about Yuuri, about himself. It was like he was slowly falling down a hill, where everyday he went faster and faster, but he still couldn't see the bottom. Most likely, a blind jump that he wasn't yet willing to take. 

"Uhm. I never thought about it. I think its impossible to hate your soulmate, they are your soulmate after all, but I don't think I would forgive them right away either. Like, what they did was pretty cruel. But, like, in certain situations I could understand. There are people who are born into situations they can't control. But I'd still be upset, like, not with them, but with how they were raised."

"And if the only reason they did it was because they couldn't be bothered to wait?" 

"I'm not even sure if I would accept them. You can turn down a soulmate, right?" 

"You wouldn't accept them? Yuuri! That's like, nearly impossible. It's only happened twice without at least one member of the pair dying. And even then it was said to be excruciatingly painful. Like, ripping away half your soul."

"They would have half their soul ripped out at once, but I've had pieces of it being hacked off for years." 

"I'm sorry Yuuri."

"Don't be. It's not your fault." So much of Viktor wanted to take Yuuri's arm and tell him it could have been, that they needed to find out. To press kisses to every single scar and tell him sorry. To send him a billion presents, to cherish Yuuri like an angel forever. He didn't though, because underneath his great facade, he was a coward. It was Yuuri who was brave at heart. It was Yuuri who would accept him, if he was his soulmate. It would be Yuuri who would accept every excuse, who would work to repair every bond. If only their roles were reversed, but- then he would be the Yuuri, and Yuuri would be the Viktor. There was no good side to an unbalanced relationship. 

"Still, I can only imagine. To have my soul hurt. I've been so so lucky." He leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to the top of Yuuri's head. "Come on. Let's get hot pot. I don't want you to be hungry tomorrow, and this is such a depressing conversation. Going out will help us lighten the mood." Yuuri smiled up at him.

"I'd love to." 

Viktor was trying to force seafood on him. And sure he would love to share with Viktor but raw food, right before an important event? Either the man had no fear in the world or he had somehow forgotten about over 12 years of competitive ice skating. (He assumed Viktor was just a little too drunk to really think. The man could hardly drink two of his fancy cocktails without getting drunk- though those did have a much higher alcohol content than anything Yuuri would choose for himself) And although it was alright at first with just the two of them, the number of world class figure skaters in the small restaurant just kept going up. It started with Phichit, who had gushed at the photos on Viktor's phone for at least 15 minutes. He had grabbed Celestino next, asking the man all about the night, but the coach was no help, constantly falling asleep even while Yuuri and Phichit yelled at him. Viktor had somehow managed to claim Yuuri back from Phichit, holding the man against his side even when he started to take off his clothes. And no matter how much Yuuri shouted and pulled at Viktor, the man just kept taking off more layers, until he was near naked, wrapped round Yuuri, and begging to go to the onsen. He could see Phichit take photos when Viktor kissed his cheek, but when he glared at the Thai skater the man had just laughed. 

"I'll get payback someday Phichit," Yuuri joked. "I can't believe you did this even after I got Viktor to go back a year in his photos to see if there was any drama for you." 

"I'm still so excited to put it on Instagram."

"You can't! It'll look like I was fooling around with my coach right before a competition, and people will assume that we're soulmates too! The last thing I need is people trying to see my soul mark!"

"Okay okay. I'll post it later." Phichit almost felt bad for not classifying how much later. Keyword: almost. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Yuuri. Yuuri. Everything is lit," Phichit whispered into his phone at 7 in the morning. "Everything is lit. Make people shook today." 

"Everything is not lit Phichit. If I mess up people will think it was because I was with Viktor all night. It would be disgraceful for him as a coach, and it could probably ruin my career. No one wants to coach a figure skater who gets drunk the night before a competition."

"You think Viktor hasn't been drunk before a competition? I remember all those dumb gossip magazines you used to read, and maybe half of what said were lies, but he definitely got hammered at least once before a competition." 

"He's a professional Phichit!"

"And he's a human! He gets bored, he makes mistakes. It's normal. Yuuri, I know you've idolized Viktor Nikiforov the world champion, but sometimes you need to understand that even when he was just someone you idolized, he was still a human. I know you see him as a person now, but... he still was then too." 

"I know! I do! But Yakov would never have let him-"

"Has Viktor ever listened to Yakov?"

"I mean. I don't know?" Yuuri shrugged, picking at the sheets that covered his lap. 

"You live with the man. You of anyone should." 

"I don't live with him!"

"You're sharing the same hotel room. I'd bet my figure skating ability he's right next to you, and that's why you told me we had to be quiet. I'd even bet 150 bahts that he doesn't have a shirt on." 

"He.... might not have a shirt on. But it was hard enough to get him back to the hotel, I couldn't get him to his own room. He's heavy!"

"Yeah yeah. When I win gold I'll make an announcement about it."

"If. If you win gold." 

"Wow! Getting a boyfriend sure gave you a backbone." 

"Phichit!" Yuuri shrieked, "Viktor isn't my boyfriend!" He dropped his phone when arms wrapped around him, the sound of Phichit's yelling muffled by Viktor's soft chuckles. 

"Who said I wasn't your boyfriend?" Viktor purred, his voice slightly scratchy. Phichit had probably heard, considering the screaming noise from Yuuri's phone that was loud enough to wake the neighbors, even when the phone was on a low volume. "Sorry for eavesdropping Yuuri. But make sure to pay Phichit his bahts."  

"How much did you hear?" Yuuri asked, blushing while he grasped for his phone, clutching onto it like a lifeline. He'd say stuff he should have never said next to Viktor, but- he'd felt comfortable in bed. It wasn't that Viktor's presence was forgettable, but that it was something calming, like coming home. 

"Nothing before the bahts to be honest," Viktor admitted. "I'm sure it was a riveting conversation though. Were you planning your next pole dancing lesson? Planning a surprise date for me?" 

Yuuri pushed him off the bed.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Phichit skated brilliantly, but today it was no longer enough to skate well like Phichit, or to skate just with emotion and step sequences like he had done before. He was Viktor Nikiforov's student, and he could prove to the world that he was worthy of stealing the man from figure skating- no, that he deserved to have Viktor. Phichit's performance would be brilliant, but his performance- it would be show stopping. They could think whatever they wanted of the photo, but they could never doubt his skating. He was no longer a sexy bowl of katsudon, and the graceful noblewomen who seduced the playboy. He was Yuuri Katsuki, and he seduced everyone he laid his eyes on. He wiggled his hips in time to the music as he leaned against the wall, stretching out his calves. He could hear the audience reacting to Guang Hong, the skater who came 3rd in Skate America. He was probably doing brilliantly- though he was biased in that he believed Phichit had been better. It had been Phichit's personal best, and a song the man had always wanted to skate to. He had been inspired when he skated, enthralling to watch. But no one could skate as well as he would. He stopped his stretching to jog up and down the locker room, hoping to get out some nervous energy while he warmed up. He could feel stares on him, Chris's more on his butt, but Viktor seemed.. concerned? It was hard to tell from the man's stoic features. But his gaze followed Yuuri across the room like his eyes were tied to Yuuri with a string. It seemed to burn into his skin, ice blue eyes following him across a dimly lit locker room. Like a sense of deja vu, as if he had seen blue blue eyes in the dark before. There were fewer people with blue eyes in Japan, but... He could have seen blue eyes anywhere, so why did he remember them now? He could almost taste champagne, feel arms holding his waist, a sultry voice whispering into his ear: "Show me your Eros Yuuri." 

And then it was gone. 

"Yuuri? Yuuri? Are you alright?" Viktor was holding Yuuri by the wrist, his face uncomfortably close to him. "I was just going to ask you if you would be willing to change your performance, sort of. I was thinking you could maybe be comfortable enough to seduce as yourself, instead of making yourself into a pork cutlet bowl or a women. I know it could be hard to picture your soulmate, but- perhaps just a shadow to dance with? I just feel like you have a solid understanding of your emotions now."

"I can do it."

"Are you sure? I don't want to mess anything up."

"I promise."

"Well, if that's the case, I need to get to an interview. It will probably be time for you to be interviewed soon too, if people don't wait until after. I'll look out for you when I'm over there." 

"You better see my skate."

"I wouldn't dream of missing it. Honestly, you take me for such an awful person." 

"But I really want you to see it. I think I've found who I want to skate for." 

"Did you? Who are they?" He wanted to reply, but Viktor- Viktor seemed angry. He had talked too fast, his words had been sharp, digging into Yuuri like accusatory blades. He must have hurt but Viktor, but how? All he had said was that he had found someone to skate Eros for. It didn't mean anything! Mostly. But Viktor was pushing him, until his back hit the wall. It wasn't aggressive, but it was unexpected. Viktor was tactile, but not pushy. "Yuuri, who inspires you when you skate?" He was looming over Yuuri, though he didn't feel caged. He felt protected.

"The people I love." Viktor somehow managed to move closer, pressing away any space between them. He was frowning, eyebrows scrunched together, like he was trying to read a particularly taxing book, like he was trying to understand it. 

"Who do you love?" There were a billion different names he could say, so many people he loved. But Viktor wanted the person who inspired his eros, the person he should dedicate his return to skating to. But who did he love? His soulmate, the shadow man? Or Viktor, the man who always seemed to vanquish the shadow man when he skated?

"Don't take your eyes off me Viktor," Yuuri stated, eyes ablaze with determination. This was his chance to win, this was his chance to finally prove that he was more than worthy. That Viktor had fallen under the spells of a deadly witch that used eros as her only magic. And the way Viktor was looking at him, Viktor knew what Yuuri meant. 

"Show me your eros Yuuri. Prove it to me. You don't need to be a pork cutlet bowl anymore." 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

For a man who had promised to pay attention to him, Viktor was doing a very bad job. His attention was on two reporters, and one of them was clearly flirting, twisting around their long blonde hair and repeatedly touching his arm. It shouldn't bother him- he was supposed to wait for his soulmate- but it did. It wasn't that he expect Viktor to like him, but, hadn't the man just pinned him to a wall in a locker room and told him to prove his eros to him? But when Viktor touched the girl's arm, when Viktor appeared to flirt back- Yuuri had had enough. He stomped across the ice as well as he could, grabbing Viktor's shoulders to twist him around, pulling the man's head to his, until their foreheads were touching.

"Don't look away from me. I'll give you eros Viktor." He could hear the giggles of the girls behind Viktor, and he bitterly glared at them. "Don't ever take your eyes off me Vitya." He let go of Viktor, watching as the man barely managed to keep his footing. He felt malicious, but it was Viktor who had taken his eyes off Yuuri first. It was Viktor who had flirted with some random blond reporter who wasn't worth standing next to his coach. He was the man who seduced Viktor now. The man who drew Viktor away from the ice, who took Viktor away from the world and made him his own.

And he'd done it all with as much ease and grace as the woman he skated the story of. The music started to play, every instrument adding to the desire of the sounds. He could feel the eros of the song inside of him- he was no longer fighting with the music, or dancing with it. The music was inside of him, and only his skating would let it out. He was the controlling force of Eros now. Twisting, he locked his eyes on Viktor. He could see the man's recognition in his eyes, how Yuuri was no longer a force competing against Eros, but instead he had become Eros- if just for a few minutes while he skated, but those few minutes were enough to make the whole world want more of him. 

He wouldn't skate like he had skated at the nationals. He would skate like he skated for Yuuko, he would skate like he skated for Viktor. He would skate like this was his last time skating, but he planned for so many more competitions to come. He was Yuuri Katsuki, and for the segment of time, he ruled the ice. No one could beat him. No one could skate Eros like he could. No one had Viktor to inspire them.

His quad salchow was coming up, a jump he only occasionally made in practice, but Viktor had pushed him to add it in. He could feel himself speeding up, gaining the necessary momentum to jump, to rotate 4 times in the air. It was something gravity defying, how many people could spin 4 times in the air jumping off the ground? He had been ashamed of his one quad before he trained with Viktor, but he had learned more now. He had learned how to love the ice again- because his love had been fragmented from years of anxiety, his love had been formed from some need to escape that the ice could no longer give him after his loss. He had seen everything wrong, hadn't he? He had been wrong when he thought all he had was the ice, and he had been wrong when he thought he was a failure for losing at the GPF. He was the 6th best figure skater in the world. He was Japan's top figure skater. He had fans and friends and people who loved him, an overprotective sister and so many others.

The ice had given the illusion of an escape, but it wasn't the protection the thought it was. It had accepted him when he started to skate, but he had used it to get away from the acceptance he could have found all around him, if he had just bothered to open his eyes. Now though, now he had found his love. And as he swung his free leg back, launching into the jump, he raised his arms up, spinning like the ballerina Minako had trained him to be.

And when he landed, he landed perfectly.

The crowd roared. 

But it wasn't good enough, would never be good enough, until Viktor only saw him. Because Viktor's eyes weren't on him now, as he went into his step sequence, he could already feel himself preparing to fall. Because he had become Eros for Viktor, and the man was talking to the lady again, half turned away from Yuuri. He was his coach! He was paying the man to pay attention to him! Why wasn't he? 

He had a quadruple-triple combination jump next. He could do it, of course, but he wanted Viktor's attention back. It took more than just following his program to get Viktor's attention. There was a maximum of 8 jumps in the free skate, but- how could he catch Viktor's attention without a 9th? The man would notice if he disqualified himself. 

He wasn't desperate. People were desperate for him, and he tossed them away. 

He didn't need Viktor's attention.

But he wanted it.

And when the crowd roared, when he perfected another jump, he got it. As he spun too fast, vision blurring at the edges, Viktor's eyes were clearly focussed on him, the reporter pushed behind him. A secondary thought to Yuuri, like she should be. He was jealous of the beautiful lady who wouldn't fall to him, no matter how hard he strived for her. But now she was here, taking his hand, taking off her mask to reveal her identity- but he didn't want to know her identity. The playboy had won, and perhaps he would lose part of his heart when he sent her away, he would heal over time. 

He would overcome any hurt with time. 

His final step sequence showed him casting aside the women, like any of the other conquests of his life. But, when he ended, he didn't feel like he was letting go, but instead begging that she would stay. Because ihe would never leave, even if he could never have what he wanted, he would face all the pain, all the torment, just to temporarily have what he loved.

He didn't know how the playboy could send away someone he loved. 

He couldn't send away someone he hated. 

His arms were shaking, his breath coming too quickly, incapable of even regulating his breathing. Every breath he took grated in his lungs, in his throat. He should skate off the rink, he should go back to the normal Yuuri. He should hide his head in Viktor's side when his score is announced, come in a solid 3rd or 4th in the short skate, then rise to 2nd with the free skate. That was what he did, that was what Celestino had trained him to do. To be average.

Viktor wanted exceptional. And he wanted to be exceptional for him.

"Yuuri! Yuuri!" The man was running, racing toward the barrier where the would meet. "Yuuri! That was brilliant!" He willed his legs to move, to run across the ice to Viktor, but his muscles weren't cooperating. He was too slow, his movements too jerky, and he seemed to stagger across the ice, too slow to reach Viktor at the gate, too slow to jump into the man's arms in a hug.

Had he lost his only chance? Eros would have been moving like normal abandoning his lover, not staggering, not broken. Maybe he wasn't really Eros. Maybe he was just someone who had stolen Eros, for only a few moments, so that he could win over a crowd. 

But then Viktor was pulling him into a hug, crushing Yuuri against his body until there was almost no space between them. Yuuri buried his head into Viktor's shoulder, his breathing finally regulating. It wasn't that Viktor calmed him, but having someone hold him in general helped him feel more grounded, especially right after skating when he was lost in his head. 

"Your landing on the quad-triple combination was messy at best and that quad salchow was close." Viktor reached out, taking Yuuri's hand and lacing their fingers together, "But your emotion was brilliant and your step sequences. I could see why Minako said they were your best talent. If you skated like that everyday, you would win the Grand Prix Final. But I can see, you found your inspiration?"

"Maybe, its hard to tell with so many people in my life that I love, but I think I might have."

"That's brilliant Yuuri! You simply must keep skating for them, esppecially tomorrow, if it makes you this good." 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

It might have been the most tact Viktor had ever been when he waited for them to get back to the hotel before he turned on Yuuri. The moment the door to their room closed behind them, Viktor turned on Yuuri, hardly giving the man time to put down his bag. "Was it me? You skated for me, didn't you?" And no matter how terrifying it would be to admit the truth, it would get worse if he hid it.

"I did," Yuuri whispered.

"Why?"

"Because when I skated to Eros I thought of you. It was one of the easiest decisions of my life, but also one of the hardest. Because you aren't my soulmate, and I shouldn't be skating for you. But I can't help it. Not when my own soulmate always hurts me. I tried, for them. But I'm not perfect."

"Nobody is perfect Yuuri. That's what makes us human." He smiled his heart-shaped smile, pulling Yuuri into his arms. "Skate for me if its what you want Yuuri. If you can't be perfect, then be human with me tomorrow. Be human with me." Yuuri blushed, pulling back from Viktor.

"I... I don't know."

"What's not to know Yuuri? If you like me, then why not? It's not like it's wrong to find inspiration in someone else! I found inspiration from you, didn't I?" 

"It's easy for you Viktor! I've never even kissed someone! I don't even know why you gave me Eros!"

"Yuuri- you don't need to be a good kisser to be Eros. I gave you Eros to surprise people, but I think the person you surprised the most was me. I never thought that you could show Eros like you do. It's like you're two different people."

"It feels like I'm just free on the ice."

"You look free on the ice. Beautiful too." Viktor leaned in closer, removing the distance Yuuri had made between them. "I didn't stop paying attention to you, when you skated. Not even when she tried to talk to me, I always looked at you. You were mesmerising. And just moments before you were so aggressive, so... jealous? You don't have to be jealous of me Yuuri," he said, pushing his nose to Yuuri's in a soft eskimo kisses. "You're the only person I coach." He grinned at Yuuri, who had collapsed like dead weight in his arms. It was difficult to support the man's weight, but he was fairly strong- strong enough to support the man without outwardly showing it. "Skate for me tomorrow Yuuri. Show the world your love." Leaning in, he pressed his lips to Yuuri's cheek, savoring the feeling of the man's skin against his own. "I've already skated for you, my katsudon." Yuuri was starting to grow painfully heavy, but he did his best, pulling the man forward so he could whisper into his ear. "Stay with me, stammi vicino. I skated for love, and it was then that I met you. It was fate for us to skate together." 

It would be hard to be certain if Yuuri was his soulmate, almost impossible without their only guide in life- if your soulmate was with someone else you got scars, and the first thing they said to you was tattooed on your wrist. There were platonic soulmates, but nobody was without a soulmate. If your soulmate died in old age, you died soon after them, most likely due to grief. If they did when you were young, the mark would just go away, but it would be the most painful thing ever. And if you didn't want your soulmate, you could reject them, which would cause your tattoo to go away, at the chance of killing both of you. That was all he had ever been told. And now, when they weren't the status quo, how would he ever know?

By kissing someone else?

He could find someone to kiss easily, he could go to any bar in any city, find a man or a woman, and lose himself in another person. But all he could find himself wanting was Yuuri. Before, there were celebrities, models and musicians, fellow skaters, athletes, even everyday people who managed to catch his eye. He hadn't really been discriminatory with his 'make-out sessions'. Now, though, he wish he had been. That he hadn't been young and stupid, that he had remembered that every person he was with was perhaps a blip in the story of his life, but were a permanent mark for someone else. 

Yuuri had all of the marks, a soulmate who seemed to be even worse than him. They didn't deserve Yuuri, whoever they were. But was he any better? He was basically trying to steal someone's not quite boyfriend. It was a game of Russian Roulette, and if he did anything wrong, he would end up dead. Too forceful, and Yuuri would push him out. Too little, and Yuuri would forget him. If he ever left and came back smelling like alcohol and someone else's perfume, he might as well have lost. But if Yuuri's soulmate ever showed up, if Yuuri's soulmate wasn't Viktor, he would lose everything. 

But it was a game he was willing to play.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Aho means idiot in Japanese, but changed into English writing instead of kanji.  
> 2\. Mikael is a real Russian soccer player (Mikael Antonsson) who started professional in the same year that Viktor was born. I believe he was 8 years older than Viktor, but I'm bad at dates and stuff sooo. I know there was a character named Mikael in strangeandintoxicating's 'Dance of the Red Death', but I didn't add a Mikael soccer star who dated Viktor because of that story, but because he was a real person who came up when I was looking into other Russian athletes on Wikipedia. (I wonder if they added a Mikael the soccer star for the same reason?) Honestly he hardly even has a role, it doesn't need this long of an annotation.

A crowd of people from Hasetsu waved at him through the phone scream, the chaotic rush of Japanese scaring him. He still wasn't used to everyone speaking Japanese, not after living in Detroit for so long. It would probably surprise him more if they all started speaking fluent English though, and the language was comforting, just not one he used on a day-to-day basis, particularly at competitions. He spoke with Viktor in English, despite their best attempts to teach other their respective native language. 

"Yuuri! You had such a good short skate!" their old neighbor said, his face smiling as he waved at the screen. "I remember when you ran through my yard trying to cut time off warm ups so you could skate! And now look at you! We're all so proud of you, and I forgive you for the flowers." 

"You did so well Yuuri! It makes me proud to be your mother- the best figure skater in Japan, its something to be proud of Yuuri," his mother added, smiling widely at the phone his sister held.

"I can't believe you beat your old free skate record Yuuri! You were so good! 106 points, I could never imagine it. It makes me happy I forced you to watch Viktor so you started doing figure skating instead of ballet," Yuuko said, grinning. "Takashi, Axel, Lutz, and Loop all wanted to congratulate you too, but it was too late for the triplets to stay up so Takashi took them home. We'll have to call tomorrow after the free skate to see how you did!" The entire group nodded, Minako waving with her cup full of mystery alcohol.

"You better bring back a win Yuuri! What would Viktor think if he came all the way from Russia to woo you and you didn't win?" She grinned lopsidedly at the camera, eyes slightly off focus, as if she was too drunk to really locate the phone.

"Mhm. Get us a win Yuuri," his sister said, flipping the phone around so she could see him. "After all that training you've done, you'll blow them all out of the water. And if you mess up, you can come work at the onsen with me." He waved at his family, but he could feel the panic crawling up his sides. He was first, and now they expected him to win. How did Viktor do it? He only had a few family members telling him to win, not hoards of people. (And Viktor had managed to win too! He wished he could have the self-confidence of the Russian man) 

"Thanks! I'll do my best for all of you. I really appreciate that you stayed up so late to watch me skate today. I'm going last tomorrow, so please don't inconvenience yourself by staying up for me, or taking time out of your day to watch. I know you all have work, and I don't want to impose." He smiled a little at the group, everyone having gone silent to listen to him talk. It was Minako who spoke up first.

"Inconvenience? Honestly Yuuri, you put yourself down. If I could watch you skate everyday, I'd live my whole life in that frigid ice rink you love so much." 

"Ah, Minako! You shouldn't. I'm not that good!"

"You insult my ballet coaching Yuuri," Minako complained, though she quickly stopped her grumbling to smile at Yuuri. "Good luck." The others chorused a series of good lucks, waving at the phone, before Mari turned it back to her.

"Good luck aho1."

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

He was breathing heavily, heart racing, as he sat in his bed and stared at the ceiling. His room was empty of Viktor, for once, and it was both comforting and... not. He had grown used to the warmth of Viktor next to him, though they had only started regularly sleeping in the same bed a week or two ago, a while after even the nationals. Yuuri had been skeptical, but when Viktor showed up drunk after going to Mari's bar, he had been unable to say no when the man asked him to stay. He slept better than he had in weeks, comforted by the body heat of another human. It had been years since he shared a bed with someone else, he had never even slept in the same bed as Phichit! He had never even known how nice it felt to fall asleep wrapped up in in the arms of someone else, no one besides his family having held him when he was little. It was addictive, and the next night he had showed up in Viktor's room, under the guise of wanting tips on landing a quad flip. 

It became a habit.

He knew that tonight he wouldn't sleep, and he hadn't wanted to disturb Viktor, so he had sent him to his separate room, saying that he needed the space to stretch in the morning before they left. Viktor had looked at him skeptically (it was a horrible excuse) but he had left anyway, not without making sure Yuuri's alarm was set so he could get to the rink for 7:30 to practice before the competition started. The same phone stared mockingly at him from his bedside table now, daring him to try to sleep. He didn't suffer from insomnia, if he turned off the lights and lay on his bed, he could probably fall asleep in about an hour. He just couldn't stand to stay still, the nerves causing his hands to shake even when he tried to still them. The nerves created energy when he needed to sleep, and caused dread when he finally needed energy, when he needed to skate. 

There were worse things than staying up. he could probably set a new record on Temple Run, Viktor having beaten his old one last week. He had pushed him, so the man died right after, but he still wnated to claim his position. It had been Viktor's second time playing Temple Run too! He was too talented for his own good. 

He would post in Instagram, but Viktor and Phichit would be sure to question him about it the next morning. He rarely posted, and it would stand out like a sore thumb on their timelines. And if Viktor was still awake, he would come knock on Yuuri's door and take his phone away. Celestino used to take his phone, because he would read all of the criticism he could, to psych himself out. Viktor didn't know that though, the man was still an inexperienced coach, and it wasn't like Yuuri commonly shared the fact that his old coach had to take away his phone like a kid in primary school. Nerves were common among younger skaters, people debuting in Juniors or moving up to the Seniors at 16. They were not common in 24 year old skaters who had already been established as good. 

Though he wasn't good, so maybe that was why he got nervous.

He could feel his fingers itch to open instagram, to scroll through the comments on Viktor and Phichit's photos, to see just how awful he was. He knew that he didn't deserve Viktor as a coach, that he didn't deserve to be in the Grand Prix Final- not compared with good skaters like Leo and Christophe. People said he was Japan's greatest skater, but he was really just Japan's greatest failure. He'd gone off for 5 years on a sports scholarship, and then proceeded to embarrass everyone in the final. He'd come last! It would have been better if he didn't even make it, then people wouldn't have known his name. Then people wouldn't have had hopes for him to win, only for him to lose. 

Only people like Viktor deserved to be in the finals, the reigning Olympic champion and winner of countless accolades and medals. He'd probably become a famous coach or announcer after too. Fluent in 3 languages with a voice and reputation like his- he could go anywhere, do anything, become a professional model if he wanted. What could Yuuri do? Run an onsen? 

He didn't even know how to do that. 

Yuuri let the hours pass by as he read about how awful he was, letting the words blend together into a beast, angry people spitting angry words at him, breathing green flames with bright red eyes peering out from flap of the beast's skin. It stalked him, waiting for a moment like this. It could be called anxiety, but- it didn't need a name. It was a part of him. He couldn't help it. He wasn't in control. It was a villain that lived in his head, begging to be let out, to be in control. In the dark, it was hard to be bigger than his demons. They flourished in darkness. 

The words he read only fed it, added to it. He would lose control. He couldn't stop.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Have you slept at all Yuuri?" Viktor asked, brushing a finger across one of his prominent eye bags, frowning disapprovingly. "You'll never be able to skate like this. Was it your bed? I can get you a new room."

"No no no! I don't need a room! Besides, I slept a bit," Yuuri said, smiling meekly at Viktor, hoping the man would let up and let him on the ice. Today was not a day where he got what he wanted though, as he felt his feet leave the floor.

"We're taking a nap! I always slept until the last minute before my competitions. It's not like you need to practice, the routine will be perfect when you perform. It was perfect in practice."  

"I'm never going to be able to sleep Viktor! Put me down!" he shrieked, flailing in the man's grasp. 

"Of course you'll sleep! All you need to do is relax Yuuri." He was ashamed to admit that he slept well after making Viktor triple check his alarm and the time the free skate started. But when he relaxed, he seemed to melt into the mattress under Viktor's body heat, drowning in a comforting pool of sheets and pillows. It was one of the best decisions Viktor ever made, to let him go to sleep. He was more relaxed going to the event, and he was no longer a zombie. He had planned to drink some kind of caffeinated drink to get himself through the skate, but nothing beat sleep. 

"Don't attempt any jumps during warm up." Viktor probably deserved a student who didn't listen after what he did to Yakov, but he still felt bad when he felt himself preparing for the triple axel, speeding up and checking for clear ice. A spot opened up for him to jump and he launched, feeling his blade wobble, his balance off-center. He hit the ice at an angle, his other leg swinging forward to catch himself, but it was too late, one second he was feeling the terror of a proper fall, the next the ice was hitting his hand, the blow only slightly softened by his skating gloves. He could feel Viktor glaring at him from the edge of the rink, could hear the gasp of the crowd, and he pushed himself to his feet. He might not have landed the jump, but that didn't mean he was going to give up and go get medical care. His hand was only hurting a little, and besides some bruising on his hip, he would be fine. He hadn't hit the ice with his head. 

The time he had left ended far too quickly, dread slowly rising as he realized he had to go talk to Viktor after directly disobeying him. But the man didn't even seem mad when he left the rink, looking at Yuuri like he was calculating him, but not yelling. 

"We can do some more warm ups before you skate. Okay Yuuri? Stretches, to help you after that fall. You're lucky you didn't get hurt." 

"I know what I'm doing Viktor!"

"So did everyone else who died skating. Hit your head, slice a vein with that blade on your foot- there's a reason Yurio calls them knife shoes Yuuri. Be careful."

"I know how to be careful." Viktor looked up from where he was untying Yuuri's laces, eyes a little colder than before.

"I'm sure a lot of dead people have said that Yuuri. You hit your head on the barrier before, you spectacularly failed that jum, you're low on sleep and incredibly anxious. You're going to go stretch in a room where they broadcast everyone's scores, and you're going to get even more anxious. Nervous skaters don't make for safe skaters. Be safe." 

"Pep-talks about me dying don't make for calm skaters either Viktor." The Russian just smiled at him, placing Yuuri's skates next to him on the bench. 

"I'll meet you in two for stretches. Put those in your locker and put on sneakers. I don't want you walking around in just socks and slipping during your stretches." 

He was back with Viktor in a few minutes, sneakers hastily tied and skates securely stashed away. "Where should we go?"

"With the other skaters, of course. They'll see what a good skater you are, stretching and running and practicing your routine. They'll all wish that I was their coach, since I'm so talented. My skaters always listen to me, don't they Yuuri? They never ignore what I say, even when I know what I'm doing. If they did, oh dear! I don't know what would come of me!" 

"I'm sorry," Yuuri said begrudgingly, scrunching his nose at Viktor. "It wasn't proper of me to ignore your advice. Both today and at the nationals, when I didn't lower my jump difficulty." 

                 _China's ace could be setting records today! What a program! He landed all of his jumps in the first half! Could this be his chance to come first and take all of the figure     skating world by storm?_

"Don't listen to it Yuuri," Viktor scolded him, watching nervously as Yuuri rushed around the room, turning off all of the monitors. The sounds of the announcers still filtered into the room, the cheers of the crowd making the room shake. Yuuri was sweating heavily though, pacing anxiously around the room and drawing attention from all the other skaters and coaches. He could feel their eyes follow from Yuuri to him, as if they were all waiting for something- waiting for him to be the coach he had promised he would be for Yuuri. "Let's go somewhere else to warm up." 

But where could they go for silence? It was noisy in the rink, the announcers voices echoing to every extent and the roar of the crowd enough to make the floor shake. But perhaps in the garage? He had been there once trying to find Georgi- Georgi who had been crying over some failed romance or something. He hadn't been bothered by it, it was every other week that Georgi was having a meltdown about some ex or potential girlfriend. But maybe he could still get down to the garage, if he could remember the path. 

It took him 10 minutes of pointless wandering, Yuuri casually pointing out that Viktor had turned down the same hallway at least twice. But then he found the door he had been searching for, nearly the same color as the walls surrounding it, easy enough to miss if you weren't looking for it. There were probably better ways to get to the garage, perhaps from the pedestrian areas of the rink. But the concrete stairs lead into the parking garage, and he could finally let out a breath- he wasn't as much of a an idiot as everyone thought. It only took him minutes to find a parking garage. Yuuri hadn't relaxed at all though, he only seemed to have gotten more nervous since the practice skate. The cheers still shook the roof above them, but it was much quieter than before, quiet enough that he could get Yuuri to relax before the free skate.

Yuuri kept pacing and staring at the roof, obviously listening to the sounds that drifted down from above, biting his lip obsessively. And no matter what he did, Yuuri wasn't getting better. He offered him support, and the man just kept turning it down. He gave him a space to relax, and he just tried to find ways to make himself nervous. He didn't want to yell or upset Yuuri, but there was little left for him to do. Skaters had hearts that were fragile as glass, and Yuuri's heart was even more so. If he broke his heart, the man might react positively- not that breaking your heart was a positive thing, but it could give him courage, determination. What he needed.

So when Yuuri went to leave the basement, he reached out, stopping him. "Yuuri, its partially my responsibility if you don't place, as your coach. If you don't place, I'll take responsibility for that by resigning as your coach." He didn't know what he expect, Yuuri to slap him or stalk away perhaps, but definitely not what faced him. He looked so broken, like his heart had truly shattered. And the way his lip quivered, the way tears fell out of his eyes silently, leaving streaks of wet on his cheeks. "I don't know how to comfort you Yuuri!" he exclaimed. "I don't handle emotions very well. Should I just kiss you?" 

"Viktor no! I don't want you to kiss me! All this time I was so nervous! I thought that you wanted to leave me, that I was such a disappointment to you!"

"I didn't mean it Yuuri! I wouldn't actually!"

" **I know!** But that doesn't change the fact that you said it! I looked up to you for so long, and I always thought you would leave. I don't want you to be anyone but yourself Viktor. Just stay close to me!"

"... I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry! Just believe in me when I can't believe in myself." Viktor reached out towards Yuuri, running his hand over Yuuri's cheeks to wipe away the tears.

"I'll always believe in you. I promise, Yuuri, I'll never look away from you. I'm sorry." 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was hard to stay angry with Viktor, no matter what the man did Yuuri couldn't find it in his heart to hold a grudge against him, at least not for a long time. Even now, though he was upset and hurt by Viktor, he didn't feel angry with him. He wasn't an experienced coach, and he wasn't good with emotions either- he had been taught how to lie his way through emotions, but that didn't help him to come to understand them. It was sad, that Viktor had been raised by gruff Yakov and Lilia before their divorce, that Viktor had never had the same parental influence that he had had. It had been his family that inspired and encouraged him, even when he didn't believe himself, they believed him. Yurio and Yakov had said Viktor was too self-centered to be a coach, but maybe Viktor had never had a chance to reach out. 

It wasn't his job to psychoanalyze Viktor. He was supposed to be angry with him, or at least disappointed. They had made progress together, their relationship so much more than Viktor carelessly flirting and Yuuri locking himself in his room. It was something you would threaten to throw away, whether you meant it or not! That just wasn't... right. 

He would need to inspire Viktor. He wanted to prove that he could win, to prove himself to Viktor. Then the man would never think about leaving him, they could skate together until he retired. He could probably skate for 2 or 3 more years, depending on injuries and overall health, but he would definitely make Pyeongchang- there were few other skaters at his level in Japan, especially when he skated his best, and he had been recognized as the best skater in the country. If they put together an Olympic team, he would be on it. 

He didn't want to retire this year. He wanted to keep skating, with Viktor and Yurio and Phichit. He wanted to skate and he wanted to win. He wanted to compete against Viktor and beat him. He wanted to keep choreographing and skating for as long as his legs would support him. 

He wanted Viktor to stay with him. 

And what better way to get Viktor to stay than to surprise him? It hadn't been that long ago that he and Phichit had practiced the quad flip together, laughing when they fell too hard, and cheering when Yuuri had managed to land it with only a slight wobble. It had been months, maybe a year, since then, but his muscle memory was strong, and he'd done it for weeks after until Yakov had pointed out that he would never be able to land it in competition so there was no point practicing.

He was a good skate, but he accepted mediocre, could come to expect only average from the people he coached. It had been good for Yuuri in the present, when he was saved from the emotional hurt of being pushed and yelled at, having to face insurmountable expectations. Now though, it meant he would be lucky if his quad flip even landed, would be lucky if he didn't get hurt trying, or ruin his routine. (Because he was going to do the quad flip, no matter the consequences. Viktor deserved to be ignored after what he had done to Yuuri.)

The announcers were cheering Chris's performance, though they were starting to move onto comments about his own. 

 **_Yuuri had this piece written to represent his growth, both as a skater and as a person._**  
         _Yuuri has said that his theme this year was 'love', and that this love represented both his family, friends, and his coach, Viktor Nikiforov, the Russian skater._  
        **He has 4 quads planned for this program, as well as his signature jump- the triple axel.**  
        _Oh? What's this? It seems he is stopping to speak with his coach before entering the rink. It looks as if he has been crying, buts it hard to tell from up here. Let's hope any drama off the ice won't mess up his routine today, which is supposed to be fairly happy- a story of growth._

It was his first time crying before a performance, and he could hear a murmur in the crowd when his red eyes were noticed. He could hear the speculations of the announcers, their soft comments more invasive than was standard- most announcers stayed out of gossip and speculation, but there were making comments about his relationship with Viktor now! Nothing rude, just speculation. 'Fans have made many videos showcasing proof of why they might be dating' and 'They do seem very close for a professional relationship, but Viktor had stated before that he is straight.' 

Viktor had also told Yuuri that his entire career was supported with lies and that he had become a professional actor for the crowds, that he loved Hasetsu because he felt free, even after all of the reporters arrived with Yurio, and especially after they left again. He didn't have to listen to them when he knew a truth that they didn't. It wasn't that he liked learning about Viktor's old dates but the man had brought them up constantly when he first came to Hasetsu. Mikael, the soccer star2. Thomas the up-and-coming singer. Nikolai the ballet dancer. Tom the painter. Alexei the figure skater. Valeriya the model. Anastasiya the reporter. Jessica. (Viktor didn't remember Jessica's occupation, and Yuuri had -softly- punched him for this.) Regina, Sofia, and Elvira the professional musicians. 

They seemed countless, and these were just the people Viktor had decided to grace with his attention twice, the people he had bothered to remember. He couldn't help but feel bad for Viktor's soulmate, had yelled at the man for what he had done at least twice. He always felt the angriest when Viktor complained about not having a mark, as if having a soulmate who waited for you and cherished their bond was a bad thing! It was love and basic respect for the person who would always have to compensate for your mistakes. 

The amount of foundation he had to wear everyday had probably cost him a year's worth of coaching fees. And it had ruined every shirt he owned, he couldn't go out without it because of how low his scars ran on his arm. He had fancy foundation for competitions, the kind of stuff people used to cover tattoos in photo shoots, professional grade or whatever it was called. It was near impossible to get off, his skin rubbed raw red and tanish residue still sticking onto the bumpy surface of his newer scars. It was the worst when he had a new scar right before he skated, the pain distracting and the makeup clotting into the wound. They were unsightly at best, and part of the reason why he hated showing his body. It was hard to show part of your body without showing your arms. 

But it wasn't Viktor's fault his arms were like this. And if his soulmate didn't want him, and Viktor didn't want his soulmate, he could finally have love. He could have what everyone chased after, he didn't need to follow his fate. The person he was fated to seemed to be a pretty awful person anyway. He could surprise the world with a quad flip, but he would surprise Viktor the most. And today, he wanted to surprise Viktor. To claim him back after he threatened to leave. To prove to the world that their were more than a five time world champion and his charity case. A quad flip would prove he was worthy of his coach to the people. A quad flip would show how much he loved Viktor.

He had to do it. For Viktor. For the crowd. But most of all, for himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the worst way to talk to anyone and if it says that the story was updated because i changed this then I'm super sorry.   
> But I won't be able to update for even longer than I had expected. My grandfather died this morning and it's devastating and I can't write. I'm sorry.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in two very separate parts (like nearly a month apart) so I'm sorry for any inconsistencies. Also, its really just poorly written fluff, but I'm trying to get used to writing again and that probably wasn't the best idea for a more important chapter.   
> Thank you!

He was supposed to do a toe loop. He knew how to do it, had practiced so many times with Viktor. RIght inside edge of blade, plant toe pick, jump. The toe loop wasn't a hard jump. He could do the quad, he could do it properly. He would finish his free skate, come in second or third, but... Viktor was his coach. He couldn't just do another boring performance. Viktor loved wanted surprises. He had practiced the quad flip before, but he rarely landed it, and that was in practice! But it was the kind-of jump that would surprise people, that would surprise Viktor. And as he performed, as he skated, he decided. His quad toe loop was near the end of his free skate, and just attempting a flip that late in his program would be nearly impossible. He could fall and be unable to finish, he could lose the music and stumble through the end of his performance, but human beings were destined to glow. He wanted to glow, bright and shining like a star. He wanted people to look at him and realize that Viktor had chosen him for a reason, that Viktor had been right to want to coach him. And as he started the three-turn that would lead to his flip, he imagined his practices, all the times he had tried before, Viktor skating next to him, guiding his posture with gentle touches to hips and hands. And as he moved so that he was on one foot, his other leg extended behind him, he could feel Viktor's surprise- of course the coach would recognize his own jump. But he was moving too fast, too fast to change his mind, to take the safe route. Everything seemed to disappear as he jumped, as he felt himself, spinning... once... twice...three times.... four times.... and he was landing, no falling. But there had been enough rotations, and he was able to stand. It was hard, to keep up with the pace of the music, to even focus on it hearing the cheers of the crowd, but he tried. All he wanted to do was run from the ice, to see how Viktor would react, to know if the increase in points from the more difficult jump would compensate for his failure. 

But, it had made him stronger. He didn't need anyone else, didn't anyone who was destined to be with him. Scars or not, he could make his own destiny. He wasn't broken because of his arms, he wasn't lesser because of someone else. He wasn't a bad skater, he was the 6th best skater in the world. And he was going to win, if not this championship, then the next, and the next and the next. Four Continents and Worlds and the Olympics. He could win. He could surprise people with Viktor, they could surprise people together. 

And then it was over, spinning and spinning, from a sit spin to standing and then he stopped, put his leg back and put his arms to the side in his ending pose. His exhaustion swept over him as if it had been physically held back before, his breath came harsh and fast. The announcers were cheering for him, the crowds of people were shouting, so loud that his ears hurt and his head ached. But it wasn't them he was focussed on, but the sounds of Viktor, running towards him, running like he didn't care what people thought about him. And then he was skating, as fast as he could towards Viktor. It was like the world went quiet around them. He opened his arms to his coach, expecting another hug, hoping Viktor thought he did enough. "Viktor! Did I do well?" 

But Viktor wasn't going to hug him. He looked different, something about the way he moved more dramatic, more finalistic. Viktor jumped at him, arms wrapping around his face, and he looked at Yuuri. It was a question without words, a Can I do this? And Yuuri, Yuuri said Yes. 

He was falling from Viktor's weight, but Viktor wrapped his arms around his neck, and he smiled, before kissing Yuuri. It was a slow kiss, but a short kiss. Lips on lips for only seconds before he hit the ice with a jarring thud.

"It was the only thing I could think of to surprise you more than you surprised me." Yuuri smiled, tilted his head in towards Viktor. 

"I hope you'll surprise me again." He only broke eye contact with Viktor when the stunned hush of the people stopped, when they started to scream and cameras started to flash, blinding him with bright white light. Viktor seemed unaffected, laughing and then pulling Yuuri to his feet. He leaned in and kissed him again, and it seemed private even with all the lights. 

"I'll never stop surprising you Yuuri." If he thought that completing his quad flip had made him glow, then now he had turned into the sun. He was proud of himself on his own, shining bright, but Viktor and he together, he felt as if he could burn down a city.

"Viktor," he whispered, letting the man take his hand and pull him from the rink. "My soulmate Viktor."

"If they ask, just say its me. Whoever they are, they don't deserve you. They don't love you like I love you."

"You.. you love me?"

"Yuuri," Viktor laughed, shaking his head. "I'd be crazy not to. You did a quad flip for me."

"I did the quad flip for myself."

"If skating was a language, than the quad flip would be a love proclamation."

"I've loved you since I was 13 Viktor. It hardly needs to be a proclamation. I just... loved you and my soulmate." 

"Yuuri," Viktor stopped, placing his hands on Yuuri's shoulder to stop his progression to the Kiss and Cry. "If you mention your soulmate anymore I might get jealous." Yuuri smiled up at him, a question in his eyes.

"My soulmate doesn't get to do this," he said, before leaning forward and kissing Viktor. Viktor's lips were soft, and his mouth seemed to fall open. He knew he wasn't good at kissing yet- he'd been kissed two times properly, and both times he had somehow managed to drool directly into Viktor's mouth. But Viktor, for his excellence at kissing, didn't seem to mind. As if all of Yuuri's inability was just cute. Viktor's hands ran into his hair, pulling his head back and licking into his mouth. It was indecent, to be kissing like this just to the side of the rink while someone else was getting ready to skate. So he ran his fingers through Viktor's hair and tugged, not hard, more of a 'We need to stop.' Viktor pulled away, a strand of spit between them that he wiped away. 

"Can I kiss you whenever I want now?"

"Only when it's appropriate. If you start kissing me in front of my parents or something!" Viktor laughed, looping his arm around Yuuri's waist to pull him towards the kiss and cry.

"So its not appropriate on live television?" 

"If you run onto the ice like that again!" 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Yuuri Katsuki, if Viktor Nikiforov your soulmate?"

"Do you have any comments on the kiss?"

"Are you and Viktor dating?"

"Was your Eros performance inspired by Viktor?"

"Is Viktor your soulmate?"

"Will you and Viktor get married?"

"What are your opinions on gay rights in Russia? How do you think your relationship affect Viktor?" 

"How long have you and Viktor been together?"

It followed him, no matter where he went. He could hide in a closet in the ice rink, and reporters running past would shout the questions at the door. It was terrifying, and the moment he could get back to his hotel room, he left. He'd left Viktor too, which felt... wrong, like he'd left a second part of him at the rink. (And he'd checked to make sure it wasn't some 6th sense warning him he'd forgotten his skates.) Perhaps it was because, somewhere across the world, somebody has 3 new cuts where before they had had none. Perhaps it was because, halfway across the world, somebody could be crying because they had lost the only thing they had to rely on. His soulmate could be in a terrible situation where he was their only source of hope, and he ruined it for them. Though it was highly likely that wasn't the case, it was still everything he was afraid of. Hurting his soulmate like these marks hurt him. 

It was all the reporters asking questions that had reminded him, truly reminded him in a way that wasn't playful jealousy, that his soulmate was a real person who he was hurting by kissing Viktor. And sure, they had hurt him a hundred times- so many scars that he could play tic tac toe forever, but it wasn't right. To do the same thing to them was just wrong. Wouldn't they know, if they got their first scars the day he caused an international figure skating scandal- or would he never hear of it because he didn't follow the sport? They, not he. It could be a girl. (Though that was about as likely as alien showing up tomorrow, taking every single mosquito, and leaving again. About as likely as Viktor Nikiforov being his soulmate. He'd prepare for the alien invasion.) 

It was the question on marriage that had burned. It wasn't that he wouldn't mind getting married, it was just that non-soulmate pairs commonly couldn't get married. It was only legal in certain nations, and many of these places gave none of the same marriage benefits to nonsoulmate partners. Both Japan and Russia didn't allow weddings between nonsoulmate pairs, no matter how Yuuri's arms looked. It was true that his Eros was for Viktor, but... the soul consuming love of Agape could be skated for the Russian man as well. The Agape of a child and their idol. A believer and their god. 

"Yuuri!" It was the same god, knocking on his door, probably smiling his heart-shaped smile, waiting to hug Yuuri to congratulate him. "Can you open the door Yuuri, or should I just let myself in?" 

"One second Viktor!" he called, rushing across the room to pull open the deadbolt. It had been a precautionary measure, considering the sheer number of people outside the hotel. He wouldn't be surprised of some crazy reporter knocked down his door to take photos of him, and he was wearing a short-sleeved shirt. It was dumb, but Viktor knew, and it was hot in their room. He'd stolen the shirt from Viktor when he told him that he liked seeing Yuuri's arms- he still didn't know why Viktor did. He swung open the door, pulled Viktor in, and slammed it shut again.

"Yuuri! There's no one outside! I had the hotel people remove them."

"Viktor," he sighed, leaning into his... coach's? chest. "My soulmate."

"Have you ever considered that I'm your soulmate Yuuri?"

"But... my arms."

"I've told you before. About everyone. And you were drunk at the Banquet when I met you, and I hardly remember that night either. It would make sense. I have no idea what the first thing you said to me was."

"There's no way to prove it Viktor! And it's not you. Sure, you had dates and people you kissed but-"

"You haven't had a new one since I started coaching you, except for that night at the club when I kissed someone. All you have to do is kiss someone, and if I get a scar, it's obvious."

"You don't! I couldn't!"

"Please Yuuri. Even if it isn't, you must want to know."

"But once I know you aren't, won't you leave me?"

"I'd never leave you Yuuri. I'll coach you forever, so long as you never retire. Just, Yuuri, believe me. I'd love you whether you were my soulmate or not, I've loved you before today, and I'll love you after. Love is the kind of thing that you don't get back. Love is the kind of thing you don't want to get back."

"I guess.... I guess I can try." Viktor grinned, wrapping his arms around Yuuri and peppering his face with kisses. "My love, my yabloko, my malchik, my khleb." 

"Your what?"

"Well," Viktor blushed, "I may have called you my apple, boy, and bread.... You are the apple of my bread boy?" Yuuri laughed, leaning his head on Viktor.

"Your bread? You're fluent in Russian and you call me bread? What about honey or sugar? You must know the words for honey and sugar."

"Of course. But calling you bread is more fun Yuuri. How about when we get married- I'll call you nice things in Russian in my marriage vows."


End file.
